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Vol. XII. 


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ADVENTURES OF A MAN OF SCIENCE, THE. By L. T. Meade and Clifford Halifax, 

I. — The Snake's Eye. Told by Faul Gilchrist 57 

II. —Ought He To Marry Her? 169 

III-— Lady Treuenna 259 

IV. — The Sleeping Sickness 401 

V.— At the Steps ok the Altar ■ 529 

VI.— The Panelled Bedroom 664 

(Illustrations by J. FlNNEMORE, R.B.A.) 

II.— The Episode of the Diamond Links ... 97 

III.— The Episode of the Old Master 201 

IV 7 .— The Episode of the Tyrolean Castle 281 

V. — The Episode of the Drawn Game 449 

VI. — The Episode of the German Professor 504 

VII. — The Episode of the Arrest of the Colonei -629 

(Illustrations by Gordon Browne, R.B.A.) 

AFTER MANY DAYS. By \V. Buckley 243 

(Illustrations by Paul Hardy.) 


(Illustrations from Drawings by C J. Staniland, R.L, and from Photographs.) 

" ANIMAL" FURNITURE. By William G. FitzGerald 273 

(Illustrations from Photographs.) 

ANNO DOMINI 1796. By Alfred Whitman 639 

(Illustrations from Old Prints.) 

BABY INCUBATORS. By James Walter Smith 770 

(Illustrations from Photographs and a Facsimile.) 

(Illustrations from Photographs, Drawings, Diagrams, and Facsimiles.) 

BAR, LEADERS OF THE. By E 464,559 

(Illustrations from Photographs. ) 

BIG GAME HUNTERS. By Framley Steel< roft 437 

(Illustrations from Photographs.) 

BOY SLADEN OF THE BAND. By Walter Wood 363 

(Illustra'ions by J. L. WlMBlsH.) 

BULLET-HOLE, THE. From the French of Francois Coppee 648 

(Illustrations by W. B. Wollen, R.I.) 

BURNS, ROBERT, THE CENTENARY OF. By Alexander Carcili 48 

(Illustrations from Paintings, Photographs, and Facsimiles.) 


(Illustrations from Photographs.) 

CAPTAIN'S STORY, THE. From the French of Albert Delpit. By Alys Hallard 
(Illustrations by Paul Hardy.) 







(Illustrations from Photographs.) 

CURIOSITIES 237,357,477,597,797 

(Illustrations from Photographs and Facsimiles.) 

DOG-SMUGGLERS. By Charles S. Pelham-Clintqn \ 92 

(Illustrations from Photographs. ) 


(Illustrations by Paul Hardy.) 


A Lion in Love 69 

The Nurse and the Wolf 182 

The Fox at the Point of Death 459 

The City Mouse and the Country Mouse 542 

(Illustrated by J. A. Shepherd. ) 

FIREWORKS, PICTURES IX. By William G. FitzGerald 493 

(Illustrations from Photographs. ) 

FLOWERS, A CARPET OF. Written and Illustrated by W. N. Reid 501 


(Illustrations by W. Christian Symons.) 

FROST, FREAKS OF. By Jeremy Brooms 738 

(Illustrations from Photographs.) 

GLADSTONE'S VISITORS 1 BOOK, MR. By William G. FitzGerald 616 

(Illustrations from Facsimiles and Sketches.) 

IDOLS 419, 513 

(Illustrations from Photographs.) 


XLVIII.— Lord Charles Beresford, C.B., R.N. By William G. FitzGerald 15 

(Illustrations from Photographs, Drawings, and Facsimiles.) 
XLIX.— Prince Ranjitsinhji 251 

(Illustrations from Photographs and a Facsimile.) 
L.— Sir Howard Grubb, F.R.S., F.R.A.S. By William G. FitzGerald 369 

(Illustrations from Photographs, Pictures, and Old Prints.) 
LL— Mr. Val Prinsep, R.A. By Framley Steelcroft 603 

(Illustrations from Paintings and Photographs.) 

JESUS CHRIST, THE LIKENESSES OF. By Alexander Cargili 784 

(Illustrations from Prints.) 

JUMP FOR FREEDOM, A. By the Rev. V. L. Whitechurch 547 

(Illustrations by Paul Hardy.) 

KING DIAMOND, THE. By Cutcliffe Hyne 425 

(Illustrations by A. Pearse.) 

KOMFV AND THE NINO. By G. Haw ley 569 

(Illustrations by W. Christian Symons.) 

( Illustrations from Photographs. ) 

LA VIVANDIERE. By H. Herman Chilton 791 

(Illustrations by J. L. Wimbush.) 

LIGHTNING FIEND, THE. By Robert Barr 684 

(Iltust/ations by Dorothy Hardy.) 

LITTLE BLUE-FLOWER. A Story for Children. From the German by Miss F. E. Hynam 232 
(Illustrations by H. R. Millar.) 

( Written and Illustrated by J. Holt Schooling.) 



{Illustrations from Photographs and Facsimiles.) 




NANSEN, A TALK WITH DR. By J. Arthur Bain 

{Illustrations from Photographs, Drawings, and a Map.) 

NANSEN, MRS. By J. Arthur Bain 

{Illustrations from Photographs.) 

NECKLACE OF TEARS, THE. A Story for Children, By Mrs. Hcerton Eastuick 
{Illustrations by H. R. Millar.) 



{Illustrations from Old Prints, Paintings, and Facsimiles.) 


{Illustrations from Photographs.) 





{Illustrations from Photographs.) 



{Illustrations from ["holographs.) 

PASTIMES AT SEA. By Framley Steelcroft 

{Illustrations from Photographs. ) 


{Written and Illustrated by II. Pheips Whitmarsh.) 

PHOTOGRAPHV, THE NEW. By Alfred W. Porter, B.Sc 

{Illustrations from Photographs. 4 


Adam, The Late Mr. Denovan 


Alvarez, Signor 73 

Baker, Sir Benjamin 199 

Bond, Miss Jessie 316 

Brouuhton/Mlss Phyllis 198 

Bruce, Mr. Justice 520 

Dit Maurier, The Late Mr. Geo. ... 689 

Li Hung Chang 317 

Loiimann, Mr. George 315 

Maple, Sir J. Blundell, M.P. ... 43s 

Mascagni, Pietro 524 

McClintock, Admirai 521 

Montrose, The Duke of, K.T. ... 692 

{Illustrations by II. R. Millar.) 

PRINCE'S DERBY, THE : As Told by Ligiitninc 
{Illustrations from Photographs.) 


Smith Cheltnam 

{Illustrations by II. R. MILLAR.) 


{Illustrations from Paintings, Photographs, Drawings, and Facsimiles.) 

PUZZLES, THE PROFESSOR'S. By Henry E. Dudeney ("Sphinx') 
(///// st rations from Drawings.) 

Nilsson, Madame Christine 
O'Brien, Sir T. C, Bart. 
Palairet, Mr. L. C. H. ... 
Prince Charles of Denmark 
Princess Maud of Wales 

I Prinsep, Mr. Yal, R.A. ... 

1 Richardson, Sir B. W. ... 
Sinclair, Archdeacon 
St. John, Miss Florence 
Truro, The Bishop of ... 
Villiers, The Right Hon. C. V 
Ward, Mis< GENEVifevE ... 

for Children. From the Persian 


Photography . 

\ Siory for Children. By Charles 

By Thomas Stayeley Oldham 










RAILWAYS IN THE AIR. By Corrie Sefton 
{Illustrations from Photographs.) 

RODNEY STONE. By A. Conan Doyle ... 
{Illustrations by SIDNEY Pac.ET.) 


3» 123, 301, 382, 4S3, 747 


{Illustrations from Drawings by C. J. SlANlLAND, R.I., and from Photographs.) 


{IltHstrations by A. J. Johnson.) 

SHADOWS, GREAT MEN'S. By S. I. Housley CHqin llfrom " 

[l "" s " alhm hom Si,h ° uelles - ) UNIVERSITY OF MICHIGAN 



5 Sg 




SOLDIER'S ROMANCE, A. From the French of Charles Foley. By Alys Hallard ... 329 
(Illustrations by W. B. Wollen, R,I,) 


(Illustrations by F. C. Gould.) 

STEAMER ON WHEELS, A. By James Walter Smith 552 

(Illustrations from Photographs and Facsimiles.) 

STORMING OF THE FORT, THE. By Walter Wood 217 

(Illustrations by W. B. Wollen, R.I.) 

TEN YEARS AFTER. Frum the French of J. Moras d. By Alys Hallard 589 

(Illustrations by Paul Hardy.) 


(Illustrations by J, A. SHEPHERD.) 


(Illustrations by A. Pearse.) 

(Illustrations from Paintings, Photographs, and a Diagram.) 

TIMBER-TOES : AN OCEAN MYSTERY. By J. Laurence Hornlbrook 727 

(IltustAitions by C. J. Staniland, R.I.) 

WOMAN OF THE SOUTH, FOR A. By C. J. Cutcliffe HYNE 765 

(Illustrations by Alfred Pearse.) 



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Rodney Stone, 




Boy Jim went down to the 
" George iT at Crawley under 
the charge of Jim Belcher and 
Champion Harrison, to train 
for his great fight with Crab 
Wilson, of Gloucester, whilst 
every club and bar parlour of London rang 
with the account of how he had appeared at 
a supper of Corinthians, and beaten the 
formidable Joe Berks in four rounds* I 
remembered that afternoon at Friar's Oak 
when Jim had told me that he would make 
his name known, and his words had come 
true sooner than he could 
have expected it, for, go 
where one might, one heard 
of nothing but ihe match 
between Sir Lothian Hume 
and Sir Charles Tregellis, 
and the points of 
the two probable 
combatants. The 
betting was still 
steadily in favour 
of Wilson, for he 
had a number of 
bye -battles to 
set against this 
single victory of 
Jim's, and it was 
thought by con- 
noisseurs who 
had seen h i m 
spar that the sin- 
gular defensive 
tactics which had 
given him his 
nickname would 
prove very puz- 
zling to a raw 
antagonist In 
height, strength, 
and reputation for game 
ness there was very little 
to choose between them, 
but Wilson had been the 
more severely tested. 

It was but a few days 
before the battle that my father made his 
promised visit to London, The seaman had 
no love of cities, and was happier wandering 
over the Duwns, and turning his glass upon 

in i irn mall. 

Vot. ,u.-l 

every topsail which showed above the horizon, 
than when finding his way among crowded 
streets where, as he complained, it was im- 
possible to keep a course by the sun, and 
hard enough by dead reckoning. Rumours 
of war were in the air, however, and it was 
necessary that he should use his influence 
with Lord Nelson if a vacancy were to be 
found either for himself or for me. 

My uncle had just set forth, as was his 
custom of an evening, clad in his green 
riding-frock, his plate buttons, his Cordovan 
boots, and his round hat, to show himself 
upon his little crop-tailed tit in the Mall. I 
had remained behind, for, indeed, I had 
already made up my mind that I had no 
calling for this fashionable life. 
These men, with their small waists, 
their gestures, and their unnatural 
" ways, had become wearisome to 
me, and even my 
uncle, with his 
cold and patro- 
nizing manner, 
filled me with 
very mixed feel- 
ings. My thoughts 
were back in Sus- 
sex, and I was 
dreaming of the 
kindly, simple 
ways of the 
country, when 
there came a rat- 
tat at the knock- 
er t the ring of a 
hearty voice, and 
there, in the door- 
way, was the 
smiling, weather- 
beaten face, with 
the puckered eye- 
lids and the light 
blue eves. 
" Why, Roddy, 
you are grand indeed V J 
he cried. " But I had 
rather set* you with the 
Ring's blue coat upon 
your back than w + ith all 
these frills and ruffles." 
" And I had rather wear it, father/ 1 
"It warms my heart to hear you say so. 
Lord Nelson has promised me that he would 

find a berth for you, and to-morrow we shall 

of America. 

Copyright, 1806, by A, Conan Doyle, in the United Staies of America. 



seek him out and remind him of it. But 
where is your uncle ? " 

" He is riding in the Mall." 

A look of relief passed over my father's 
honest face, for he was never very easy in his 
brother-in-law's company. " I have been to 
the Admiralty," said he, " and I trust that I 
shall have a ship when war breaks out ; by 
all accounts it will not be long first. Lord 
St. Vincent told me so with his own lips. 
But I am at Fladong's, Rodney, where, if you 
will come and sup with me, you will see some 
of my messmates from the Mediterranean." 

When you think that in the last year of 
the war we had 140,000 seamen and marines 
afloat, commanded by 4,000 officers, and 
that half of these had been turned adrift 
when the Peace of Amiens laid their ships 
up in the Hamoaze or Portsdown creek, 
you will understand that London, as well as 
the dockyard towns, was full of seafarers. 
You could not walk the streets without catch- 
ing sight of the gipsy-faced, keen-eyed men 
whose plain clothes told of their thin purses 
as plainly as their listless air showed their 
weariness of a life of forced and unaccus- 
tomed inaction. Amid the dark streets and 
brick houses there was something out of 
place in their appearance, as when the sea- 
gulls, driven by stress of weather, are seen 
in the Midland shires. Yet while prize-courts 
procrastinated, or there was a chance of an 
appointment by showing their sunburned 
faces at the Admiralty, so long they would 
continue to pace with their quarter-deck strut 
down Whitehall, or to gather of an evening 
to discuss the events of the last war or the 
chances of the next at Fladong's, in Oxford 
Street, which was reserved as entirely for the 
Navy as Slaughter's was for the Army, or 
Ibbetson's for the Church of England. 

It did not surprise me, therefore, that we 
should find the large room in which we 
supped crowded with naval men, but I 
remember that what did cause me some 
astonishment was to observe that all these 
sailors, who had served under the most 
varying conditions in all quarters of the 
globe, from the Baltic to the West Indies, 
should have been moulded into so uniform a 
type that they were more like each other 
than brother is commonly to brother. The 
rules of the Service insured that every face 
should be clean-shaven, every head powdered, 
and every neck covered by the little queue of 
natural hair tied with a black silk ribbon. 
Biting winds and tropical suns had combined 
to darken them, whilst the habit of command 
and the menace of ever-recurring dangers 

had stamped them all with the same 
expression of authority and of alertness. 
There were some jovial faces amongst them, 
but the older officers, with their deep-lined 
cheeks and their masterful noses, were, for 
.the most part, as austere as so many weather- 
beaten ascetics from the desert. Lonely 
watches, and a discipline which cut them off 
from all companionship, had left their mark 
upon those Red Indian faces. For my part, 
I could hardly eat my supper for watching 
them. Young as I was, I knew that if there 
were any freedom left in Europe it was to 
these men that we owed it ; and I seemed to 
read upon their grim, harsh features the record 
of that long ten years of struggle which had 
swept the tricolour from the seas. 

When we had finished our supper, my 
father led me into the great coffee-room, 
where a hundred or more officers may have 
been assembled, drinking their wine and 
smoking their long clay pipes, until the air 
was as thick as the main-deck in a close- 
fought action. As we entered we found 
ourselves face to face with an elderly officer 
who was coming out. He was a man 
with large, thoughtful eyes, and a full, placid 
face— such a face as one would expect from 
a philosopher and a philanthropist, rather 
than from a fighting seaman. 

" Here's Cuddie Collingwood," whispered 
my father. 

" Halloa, Lieutenant Stone ! " cried the 
famous admiral, very cheerily. " I have 
scarce caught a glimpse of you since you 
came aboard the Excellent after St. Vincent. 
You had the luck to be at the Nile also, I 
understand ? " 

" I was third of the Theseus^ under Millar, 

" It nearly broke my heart to have missed 
it. I have not yet outlived it. To think of 
such a gallant service, and I engaged in 
harassing the market-boats, the miserable 
cabbage-carriers of St. Luccars ! " 

" Your plight was a better one than mine, 
Sir Cuthbert," said a voice from behind us, 
and a large man in the full uniform of a 
post-captain took a step forward to include 
himself in our circle. His mastiff face was 
heavy with emotion, and he shook his head 
miserably as he spoke. 

" Yes, yes, Troubridge, I can understand 
and sympathize with your feelings." 

" I passed through torment that night, 
Collingwood. It left a mark on me that I shall 
never lose until I go over the ship's side in a 
canvas cover To have my beautiful Culloden 
laid on a sand-bank just out of gunshot. 



" We 


To hear and see the fight the whole night 
through, and never to pull a lanyard or take 
the tompions out of my guns> Twice I 
opened my pistol-case to blow out my brains, 
and it was but the thought that Nelson might 
have a use for me that held me back," 

Collingwood shook the hand of the 
unfortunate captain. 

"Admiral Nelson was not long in 
a use for you, Trouhridge/' said he. 
have all heard of your siege of Capua, and 
how you ran up your ship's guns without 
trenches or parallels, and fired point-blank 
through the embrasures*" 

The melancholy cleared away from the 
massive face of the big seaman, and his deep 
laughter filled the room. 

" I'm not clever enough or slow 
for their Z-Z fashions," said he, ** We got 
alongside and slapped it it) through their 
port-holes until they struck their colours, 
But where have you been, Sir Cuthbert ? " 

" With my wife and my two little lasses at 
Morpeth in the North Country. I have but 


seen them this once in ten years, and 
it may be ten more, for all I know, ere 
1 see them again- I have been doing 
good work for the fleet up yonder." 

14 1 had thought, sir, that it was 
inland/ 1 said my father. 

Collingwood took a little black bag 
out of his pocket and shook it. 

*' Inland it is," said he, " and yet 
I have done good work for the fleet 
there. What do you suppose I hold 
in this bag ? " 

" Bullets, 1 ' said Troubridge. 

*• Something that a sailor needs even 

more than that," answered the admiral, 

and turning it over he tilted a pile of 

acorns on to his palm. " I carry them 

with me in my country walks, and 

where I see a fruitful nook I thrust 

one deep with the end of my cane. My 

oak trees may fight those rascals over 

the water when I am long forgotten. 

Do you know, lieutenant, how many 

oaks go to make an eighty-gun ship ? " 

My father shook his head. 

" Two thousand, no less. For every 

two-decked ship that carries the white 

ensign there is a grove the less in 

England. So how are our grandsons 

to beat the French if we do not give 

them the trees with which to build 

their ships ? " 

-*-**J He replaced his bag in his pocket, 

and then, passing his arm through 

Trou bridge's, they went through the 

door together- 

" There's a man whose life might help you 
to trim your own course," said ray father, as 
we took our seats at a vacant table* ** He 
is ever the same quiet gentleimn t with his 
thoughts busy for the comfort of his ship's 
company, and his heart with his wife and 
children whom he has so seldom seen. 
It is said in the fleet that an oath has never 
passed his lips, Rodney, though how he 
managed when he was first lieutenant of a 
raw crew is more than I can conceive. But 
they all love Cuddie, for they know he's an 
angel to fight How d'ye do, Captain Foley? 
My respects, Sir Ed'ard ! Why, if they 
could but press the company, they would man 
a corvette with flag officers. 

"There's many a man here, Rodney," 
continued my father, as he glanced about 
him, " whose name may never find its way 
into any book save his own ship's log, but 
who in his own way has set as fine an 
example, as ■any.-admiral of them all We 
know them, antf r flfift of them in the fleet, 





though they may never be bawled in the 
streets of London, There's as much seaman- 
ship and pluck in a good cutter action as in 
a line-o'-battleship fight, though you may not 
come by a title nor the thanks of Parliament 
for it There's Hamilton, for example, 
the quiet, pale-faced man who is leaning 
against the pillar. It was he who, with 
six rowing-boats, cut out the 44-gun frigate 
Htrmiam from under the muzzles of 200 
shore guns in the harbour of Puerto Gabello. 
No finer action was done in the whole war- 
There's Jaheel Brenton, w T ith the whiskers. 
It was he who attacked twelve Spanish gun- 
boats in his one little brig, and made four of 
them strike to him. There's Walker, of the 
Fose cutter, who, with thirteen men, engaged 
three French privateers with crews of 146. 
He sank one, captured one, and chased the 
third. How are you, Captain Ball ? I hope 
I see you well ? ,J 

Two or three of my father's acquaintances 
who had been sitting close by drew up their 
chairs to us, and soon quite a circle had 
formed, ail talking Loudly and arguing upon 
sea matters, shaking their long, red-tipped 
pipes at each other as they spoke. My father 

whispered in my ear that 
his neighbour was Captain 
Foley, of the Goliath^ who 
led the van at the Nile, and 
that the tall, thin, foxy- 
haired man opposite was 
Lord Cochrane, the most 
dashing frigate captain in 
the Service. Even at Friar's 
Oak we had heard how, in 
the little Speed}\ of fourteen 
small guns with fifty-four 
men, he had carried by 
boarding the Spanish frigate 
Gamo with her crew of 300* 
It was easy to see that he 
was a quick, irascible, high- 
blooded man, for he was 
talking hotly about his 
grievances with a flush of 
anger upon his freckled 

" We shall never do any 
good upon the ocean until 
we have hanged the dock- 
yard contractors," he cried. 
u Yd have a dead dockyard 
contractor as a figure-head 
for every first-rate in the 
fleet, and a provision-dealer 
for every frigate* I know 
them with their puttied 
seams and their devil bolts, risking five hun- 
dred lives that they may steal a few pounds' 
worth of copper. What became of the Ckance 
and of the Martin and of the Oresfes ? They 
foundered at sea and were never heard of 
more, and I say that the crews of them 
were murdered men." 

Lord Cochrane seemed to be expressing 
the views of all, for a murmur of assent, with 
a mutter of hearty, deep-sea curses, ran round 
the circle, 

"Those rascals over yonder manage things 
better," said an old, one-eyed captain, with 
the blue and white riband for SL Vincent 
peeping out of his third button-hole. ''They 
sheer away their heads if they get up to 
any foolery. Did ever a vessel come out 
of Toulon as my 38-gun frigate did from 
Plymouth last year, with her masts rolling 
about until her shrouds were like iron bars 
on one side and hanging in festoons upon 
the other ? The meanest sloop that ever 
sailed out of France would have overmatched 
her, and then it would be on me, and not on 
this Devon port bungler, that a court-martial 
would be called." 

They lovedJlttligt^lnibJ^ these old salts, 



for as soon as one had shot off his grievance 
his neighbour would follow with another, 
each more bitter than the last 

" Look at our sails ! " cried Captain Foley. 
" Put a French and a British ship at anchor 
together, and how can you tell which is 

" Frenchy has his fore and maintop-gallant 
masts about equal," said my father. 

"In the old ships maybe, but how many 
of the new are laid down on the French 
model ? No, there's no way of telling them 
at anchor. But let them hoist sail, and how 
d'you tell them then ? " 

" Frenchy has white sails," cried several. 

" And ours are black and rotten. That's 
the difference. No wonder they outsail us 
when the wind can blow through our canvas." 

" In the Speedy" said Cochrane, " the sail- 
cloth was so thin that, when I made my 
observation, I always took my meridian 
through the foretopsail and my horizon 
through the foresail." 

There was a general laugh at this, and 
then at it they all went again, letting off into 
speech all those weary broodings and silent 
troubles which had rankled during long 
years of service, for an iron discipline 
prevented them from speaking when their 
feet were upon their own quarter-decks. 
One told of his powder, six pounds of 
which were needed to throw a ball a thousand 
yards. Another cursed the Admiralty Courts, 
where a prize goes in as a full-rigged ship and 
comes out as a schooner. The old captain 
spoke of the promotions by Parliamentary 
interest which had put many a youngster into 
the captain's cabin when he should have 
been in the gun-room. And then they came 
back to the difficulty of finding crews for 
their vessels, and they all together raised up 
their voices and wailed. 

" What is the use of building fresh ships," 
cried Foley, " when even with a ten-pound 
bounty you can't man the ships that you 
have got ? " 

But Lord Cochrane was on the other side 
in this question. 

" You'd have the men, sir, if you treated 
them well when you got them," said he. 
" Admiral Nelson can get his ships manned. 
So can Admiral Collingwood. Why ? Because 
he has thought for the men, and so the men 
have thought for him. Let men and officers 
know and respect each other, and there's no 
difficulty in keeping a ship's company. It's 
the infernal plan of turning a crew over from 
ship to ship and leaving the officers behind 
that rots the Navy. But I have never found 

a difficulty, and I dare swear that if I hoist 
my pennant to-morrow I shall have all my 
old Speedies back, and as many volunteers 
as I care to take." 

"That is very well, my lord," said the 
old captain, with some warmth; "when the 
Jacks hear that the Speedy took fifty vessels 
in thirteen months, they are sure to volunteer 
to serve with her commander. Every good 
cruiser can fill her complement quickly 
enough. But it is not the cruisers that fight 
the country's battles and blockade the enemy's 
ports. I say that all prize-money should be 
divided equally among the whole fleet, and 
until you have such a rule, the smartest men 
will always be found where they are of least 
service to anyone but themselves." 

This speech produced a chorus of protests 
from the cruiser officers and a hearty agree- 
ment from the line-of-battle-ship men, who 
seemed to be in the majority in the circle 
which had gathered round. From the flushed 
faces and angry glances it was evident that 
the question was one upon which there was 
strong feeling upon both sides, 

" What the cruiser gets the cruiser earns," 
cried a frigate captain. 

" Do you mean to say, sir," said Captain 
Foley, " that the duties of an officer upon a 
cruiser demand more care or higher profes- 
sional ability than those of one who is 
employed upon blockade service, with a lee 
coast under him whenever the wind shifts to 
the west, and the topmasts of an enemy's 
squadron for ever in his sight ? " 

" I do not claim higher ability, sir." 

" Then why should you claim higher pay ? 
Can you deny that a seaman before the mast 
makes more in a fast frigate than a lieutenant 
can in a battle-ship?" 

" It was only last year," said a very gentle- 
manly-looking officer, who might have passed 
for a buck upon town had his skin not been 
burned to copper in such sunshine as never 
bursts upon London — "it was only last year 
that I brought the old Alexander back from 
the Mediterranean, floating like an empty 
barrel and carrying nothing but honour for 
her cargo. In the Channel we fell in with 
the frigate Minerva from the Western Ocean, 
with her lee ports under water and her hatches 
bursting with the plunder which had been 
too valuable to trust to the prize crews. She 
had ingots of silver along her yards and 
bowsprit, and a bit of silver plate at the 
trucks of the masts. My Jacks could have 
fired into her, and would, too, if they had 
not been held back. It made them mad to 

thi *fMfr?#toM the south ' and 


then to see this saucy frigate flashing her 
money before their eyes." 

"1 cannot see their grievance, Captain 
Ball/' said Cochrane. 

" When you are promoted to a two-decker, 
my lord, it will 
possibly become 
clearer to you," 

"You speak as 
if a cruiser had 
nothing to do but 


take prizes. If that is your view, you 
will permit me to say that you know very 
little of the matter. I have handled a sloop, 
a corvette, and a frigate, and I have found 
a great variety of duties in each of them. I 
have had to avoid the enemy's battle-ships 
and to fight his cruisers. I have had to 
chase and capture his privateers, and to cut 
them out when they run under his batteries. 
I have had to engage his forts, to take my 
men ashore, and to destroy his guns and his 
signal stations, AH this, with convoying, 
reconnoitring, and risking one's own ship in 
order to gain a knowledge of the enemy's 
movements, comes under the duties of the 
commander of a cruiser. I make bold to 
say that the man who can carry these objects 
out with success has deserved better of the 
country than the officer of a battle-ship tack- 
ing from Ushant to the Black Rocks and back 
again until she builds up a reef with her 

•* Sir," said the angry old sailor, * 4 such an 

officer is at least in no danger of being mis- 
taken for a privateersman/' 

M I am surprised, Captain Eulkeley/' 
Cochrane retorted, hotly, " that you should 
venture to couple the names of privateers man 
and King's officer/ 1 

There was mischief brewing 
among these hot-headed, short- 
spoken salts, but Captain Foley 
changed the subject to discuss 
the new ships which were being 
built in the French ports* It 
was of interest to me to hear 
these men, who were spending 
their lives in fighting against 
our neighbours, discussing their 
character and ways. You can- 
not conceive — you who live in 
times of peace and charity — 
how fierce the hatred was in 
England at that time against the 
French, and above all against 
their great leader It was more 
than a mere prejudice or dis- 
like. It was a deep, aggressive 
loathing, of which you may 
even now form some concep- 
tion if you examine the papers 
or caricatures of the day. The 
word " Frenchman i? was hardly 
spoken without " rascal " or 
" scoundrel " slipping in before 
it. In all ranks of life and in 
every part of the country the 
feeling was the same. Even 
- the Jacks aboard our ships 
fought with a viciousness against a French 
vessel which they would never show to Dane, 
Dutchman, or Spaniard. 

If you ask me now, after fifty years, why it 
was that there should have been this virulent 
feeling against them, so foreign to the easy- 
going and tolerant British nature, I would 
confess that I think the real reason was fear. 
Not fear of them individually, of course — 
our foulest detractors have never called us 
faint-hearted — but fear of their star, fear of 
their future, fear of the subtle brain whose 
plans always seemed to go aright, and of the 
heavy hand which had struck nation after 
nation to the ground. We were but a small 
country, with a population w T hich, when the 
war began, was not much more than half that 
of France, And then, France had increased 
by leaps and bounds, reaching out to the 
north into Belgium and Holland, and to the 
south into Italy, whilst we were weakened by 
deep-lying disaffection among both Catholics 
and Pn 



The danger 


was imminent and plain to the least thought- 
ful. One could not walk the Kent coast 
without seeing the beacons heaped up to tell 
the country of the enemy's landing, and if 
the sun were shining on the uplands near 
Boulogne, one might catch the flash of its 
gleam upon the bayonets of manoeuvring 
veterans. No wonder that a fear of the 
French power lay deeply in the hearts of the 
most gallant men, and that fear should, as it 
always does, beget a bitter and rancorous 

The seamen did not speak kindly then of 
their recent enemies. Their hearts loathed 
them, and in the fashion of our country 
their lips said what the heart felt. Of the 
French officers they could not have spoken 
with more chivalry, as of worthy foemen, but 
the nation was an abomination to them. The 
older men had fought against them in the 
American War, they had fought again for 
the last ten years, and the dearest wish of 
their hearts seemed to be that they might be 
called upon to do the same for the remainder 
of their days. Yet if I was surprised by the 
virulence of their animosity against the 
French, I was even more so to hear how 
highly they rated them as antagonists. The 
long succession of British victories which 
had finally made the French take to their 
ports and resign the struggle in despair had 
given all of us the idea that for some reason 
a Briton on the water must, in the nature of 
things, always have the best of it against a 
Frenchman. But these men who had done 
the fighting did not think so. They were 
loud in their praise of their foeman's 
gallantry, and precise in their reasons for his 
defeat They showed how the officers of 
the old French Navy had nearly all been 
aristocrats. How the Revolution had swept 
them out of their ships, and the force 
been left with insubordinate seamen and no 
competent leaders. This ill-directed fleet 
had been hustled into port by the pressure 
of the well-manned and well-commanded 
British, who had pinned them there ever 
since, so that they had never had an oppor- 
tunity of learning seamanship. Their harbour 
drill and their harbour gunnery had been of 
no service when sails had to be trimmed and 
broadsides fired on the heave of an Atlantic 
swell. Let one of their frigates get to sea 
and have a couple of years' free run in which 
to learn their duties, and then it would be a 
feather in the cap of a British officer if with 
a ship of equal force he could bring down 
her colours. 

Such were the views of these experienced 

""' ~ .izedbyLiOOgle 

VoL xii.-2. 

officers, fortified by many reminiscences and 
examples of French gallantry, such as the 
way in which the crew of the E Orient had 
fought her quarter-deck guns when the main- 
deck was in a blaze beneath them, and when 
they must have known that they were stand- 
ing over an exploding magazine. The general 
hope was that the West Indian expedition 
since the peace might have given many of 
their fleet an ocean training, and that they 
might be tempted out into mid Channel if the 
war were to break out afresh. But would it 
break out afresh ? We had spent gigantic 
sums and made enormous exertions to curb 
the power of Napoleon and to prevent him 
from becoming the universal despot of 
Europe. Would the Government try it 
again ? Or were they appalled by the 
gigantic load of debt which must bend the 
backs of many generations unborn ? Pitt 
was there, and surely he was not a man to 
leave his work half done. 

And then suddenly there was a bustle at 
the door. Amid the grey swirl of the tobacco 
smoke I could catch a glimpse of a blue 
coat and gold epaulettes, with a crowd 
gathering thickly round them, while a hoarse 
murmur rose from the group which thickened 
into a deep-chested cheer. Everyone was 
on his feet, peering and asking each other 
what it might mean. And still the crowd 
seethed and the cheering swelled. 

" What is it ? What has happened ? " 
cried a score of voices. 

" Put him up ! Hoist him up ! " shouted 
somebody, and an instant later I saw Captain 
Troubridge appear above the shoulders of 
the crowd. His face was flushed, as if he 
were in wine, and he was waving what seemed 
to be a letter in the air. The cheering died 
away, and there was such a hush that I could 
hear the crackle of the paper in his hand. 

" Great news, gentlemen ! " he roared. 
" Glorious news ! Rear-Admiral Collingwood 
has directed me to communicate it to you. 
The French Ambassador has received his 
papers to-night Every ship on the list is to 
go into commission. Admiral Cornwallis 
is ordered out of Cawsand Bay to cruise 
off Ushant. A squadron is starting for the 
North Sea and another for the Irish Channel." 

He may have had more to say, but his 
audience could wait no longer. How they 
shouted and stamped and raved in their 
delight ! Harsh old flag-officers, grave post- 
captains, young lieutenants, all were roaring 
like schoolboys breaking up for the holidays. 
There was no thought now of those manifold 
and weary grievances to which I had listened, 




The foul weather was passed, and the land- 
locked sea-birds would he out on the foam 
once more. The rhythm of " God Save the 
King ,! swelled through the babel, and I 
heard the old lines sung in a way that made 
you forget their bad rhymes and their bald 
sentiments. I trust that you will never hear 
them so sung, with tears upon rugged cheeks, 
and catch ings of the breath from strong men. 
Dark days will have come again before you 
hear such a song or see such a sight as that 
Let those talk of the phlegm of our country- 
men who have never seen them when the 
lava crust of restraint is broken, and when 
for an instant the strong, enduring fires of the 
North glow upon the surface, I saw them 
then, and if I do not see them now, I am nut 
so old or so foolish as to doubt that they are 



My father's appointment with Lord Nelson 
was an early one, and he was the more 
anxious to he punctual as he knew how much 
the Admiral's movements must be affected 
by the news which we had heard the night 
before. I had hardly 
breakfasted then, and 
my uncle had not 
rung for his choco- 
late, when he called 
for me at Jermyn 
Street. A walk of 
a few hundred wrds 
brought us to the 
high building of dis- 
coloured brick in 
Piccadilly, which 
served theHamiltons 
as a town house, and 
which Nelson, used 
as his head-quarters 
when business or 
pleasure called him 
from Merton. A foot- 
man answered our 
knock, and we were 
ushered into a large 
drawing - room with 
sombre furniture and 
melancholy curtains. 
My father sent in his 
name, and there we 
sat, looking at the 
white Italian statu- 
ettes in the corners, 
and the regal picture 

of Vesuvius and the Bay of Naples which 
hung over the harpsichord, I can remember 
that a black clock was ticking loudly upon 
the mantelpiece, and that every now and 
then, amid the rumble of the hackney 
coaches, we could hear boisterous laughter 
from some inner chamber. 

When at last the door opened, both my 
father and I sprang to our feet, expecting to 
find ourselves face to face with the greatest 
living Englishman, It was a very different 
person, however, who swept into the room. 

She was a lady, tall, and as it seemed to 
me exceedingly beautiful, though, perhaps, 
one who was more experienced and more 
critical might have thought that her charm 
lay in the past rather than the present Her 
queenly figure was moulded upon large and 
noble lines, while her face, though already 
tending to become somewhat heavy and 
coarse, was still remarkable for the brilliancy 
of the complexion, the beauty of the large, 
light blue eyes, and the tinge of the dark 
hair which curled over the low white fore- 
head. She carried herself in the most stately 
fashion, so that as I looked at her majestic 
entrance, and at the pose which she struck 
as she glanced at my father, I was reminded 







of the Queen of the Peruvians as, in the 
person of Miss Polly Hinton, she incited 
Boy Jim and myself to insurrection. 

" Lieutenant Anson Stone ? " she asked. 

u Yes, your ladyship," answered my father. 

" Ah," she cried, with an affected and 
exaggerated start, " you know me then ? " 

" I have seen your ladyship at Naples." 

" Then you have doubtless seen my poor 
Sir William also — my poor, poor Sir William." 
She touched her dress with her white, ring- 
covered fingers, as if to draw our attention to 
the fact that she was in the deepest mourning. 

" I heard of your ladyship's sad loss," said 
my father. 

" We died together," she cried. " What 
can my life be now save a long-drawn living 

She spoke in a beautiful, rich voice, with 
the most heart-broken thrill in it, but I could 
not conceal from myself that she appeared to 
be one of the most robust persons that I had 
ever seen, and I was surprised to notice that 
she shot arch little questioning glances at me, 
as if the admiration even of so insignificant a 
person were of some interest to her. My 
father, in his blunt, sailor fashion, tried to 
stammer out some commonplace condolence, 
but her eyes swept past his rude, weather- 
beaten face to ask and re-ask what effect she 
had made upon me. 

" There he hangs, the tutelary angel of this 
house," she cried, pointing with a grand, 
sweeping gesture to a painting upon the wall, 
which represented a very thin-faced, high- 
nosed gentleman with several orders upon 
his coat " But enough of my private 
sorrow ! " She dashed invisible tears from 
her eyes. " You have come to see Lord 
Nelson. He bid me say that he would be 
with you in an instant. You have doubtless 
heard that hostilities are about to re-open ? " 

" We heard the news last night." 

" Lord Nelson is under orders to take 
command of the Mediterranean Fleet You 

can think that at such a moment but, ah, 

is it not his lordship's step that I hear ? " 

My attention was so riveted by the lady's 
curious manner and by the gestures and 
attitudes with which she accompanied every 
remark, that I did not see the great admiral 
enter the room. When I turned he was 
standing close by my elbow, a small, brown 
man with the lithe, slim figure of a boy. He 
was not clad in uniform, but he wore a high- 
collared, brown coat, with the right sleeve 
hanging limp and empty by his side. The 
expression of his face was, as I remember it, 
exceedingly sad and gentle, with the deep 

by L^OOgle 

lines upon it which told of the chafing of 
his urgent and fiery soul. One eye was dis- 
figured and sightless from a wound, but the 
other looked from my father to myself with 
the quickest and shrewdest of expressions. 
Indeed, his whole manner, with his short, 
sharp glance and the fine poise of the head, 
spoke of energy and alertness, so that he 
reminded me, if I may compare great things 
with small, of a well-bred fighting terrier, 
gentle and slim, but keen and ready for 
whatever chance might send. 

" Why, Lieutenant Stone," said he, with 
great cordiality, holding out his left hand to 
my father, "I am very glad to see you. 
London is full of Mediterranean men, but I 
trust that in a week there will not be an officer 
amongst you all with his feet on dry land." 

" I had come to ask you, sir, if you could 
assist me to a ship." 

" You shall have one, Stone, if my word 
goes for anything at the Admiralty. I shall 
want all my old Nile men at my back. I 
cannot promise you a first-rate, but at least 
it shall be a 64-gun ship, and I can tell you 
that there is much to be done with a handy, 
well-manned, well-found 64-gun ship." 

" Who could doubt it who has heard of 
the Agamemnon ? " cried Lady Hamilton, and 
straightway she began to talk of the admiral 
and of his doings with such extravagance of 
praise and such a shower of compliments 
and of epithets, that my father and I did not 
know which way to look, feeling shame and 
sorrow for a man who was compelled to listen 
to such things said in his own presence. 
But when I ventured to glance at Lord 
Nelson I found, to my surprise, that far from 
showing any embarrassment, he was smiling 
with pleasure, as if this gross flattery of her 
ladyship's were the dearest thing in all the 
world to him. 

" Come, come, my dear lady," said he, 
"you speak vastly beyond my merits," upon 
which encouragement she started again in a 
theatrical apostrophe to Britain's darling and 
Neptune's eldest son, which he endured with 
the same signs of gratitude and pleasure. 
That a man of the world, five-and-forty years 
of age, shrewd, honest, and acquainted with 
Courts, should be beguiled by such crude 
and coarse homage, amazed me, as it did all 
who knew him ; but you who have seen much 
of life do not need to be told how often the 
strongest and noblest nature has its one 
inexplicable weakness, showing up the more 
obviously in contrast to the rest, as the dark 
stain looks the fouler upon the whitest sheet 

" You, ^pe^ a, sea-officer of my own heart ? 




Stone," said he, when her ladyship had ex- 
haunted her panegyric. u You are one of 
tlie old breed ! n He walked up and down the 
room with little, impatient steps as he talked, 
turning with a whisk upon his heel every 
now and then, as if some invisible rail had 
brought him up + "We are getting too fine 
for our work with these new-fangled epaulettes 
and quarter-deck trimmings. When I joined 
the Service, you would find a lieutenant 
gammoning and rigging his own bowsprit, or 
aloft, maybe, with a marlinspike slung round 
his neck, showing an example to his men. Now, 
it's as much as hell do to carry his own sextant 
up the companion. When could you join ? " 

"To-night, my lord." 

" Right, Stone, right ! That is the true 
spirit. They are working double tides in the 
yards, but I do not know when the ships will 
be ready. I hoist my flag on the Vktory on 
Wednesday, and we sail at once," 

M No, no, not so soon ! She cannot be 
ready for sea," said 1-ady Hamilton, in a 
wailing voice, clasping her hands and turning 
up her eyes as she spoke* 

"She must and she shall be ready," cried 


:ized by tiOCK 

qniEU nelson 

Nelson, with extraordinary vehemence. **By 
Heaven 3 if the devil stands at the door, I 
sail on Wednesday. Who knows what these 
rascals may be doing in my absence? It 
maddens me to think of the deviltries which 
they may be devising. At this very instant* 
dear lad y , the Queen, our Queen, maybe strain- 
ing her eyes for the topsails of Nelson's ships." 
"Well, she knows that her stainless knight 
will never fail her in her need," said Lady 

Thinking, as I did, that they were speaking 
of our own old Queen Charlotte, I could 
make no meaning out of this ; but my father 
told me afterwards that both Nelson and Lady 
Hamilton had conceived an extraordinary 
affection for the Queen of Naples* and that 
it was the interests of her little kingdom 
which he had so strenuously at heart. It 
may have been my expression of bewilder- 
ment which attracted Nelson's attention to 
me, for he suddenly stopped in his quick 
quarter-deck walk, and looked me up and 
down with a severe eye, 

" Well, young gentleman !" said he, sharply, 
"This is my only son, sir," said my father. 
"It is my wish that he 
should join the Service, if a 
berth can be found him ; for 
we have all been King's offi- 
cers for many generations." 
" So, you wish to come and 
have your bones broken ? " 
cried Nelson, roughly, look- 
ing with much disfavour at 
the fine clothes which had 
cost my uncle and Mr. Brum- 
mell such a debate. " You 
will have to change that 
grand coat for a tarry jacket 
if you serve under me, sir. 51 " 
I was so embarrassed by 
the abruptness of his man- 
ner that I could but stam- 
mer out that I hoped I 
should do my duty, on which 
his stern mouth relaxed into 
a good - humoured smile, 
and he laid his little brown 
hand for an instant upon 
my shoulder. 

" I dare say that you will 
do very well," said he. lt I 
can see that you have the 
stuff in you. But do not 
imagine that it is a light 
service which you undertake, 
young gentleman, when you 
enter His Majesty's Navy. 




It is a hard profession. You hear of the few 
who succeed, but what do you know of the 
hundreds who never find their way ? Look 
at my own luck ! Out of 200 who were with 
me in the San Juan expedition, 145 died in 
a single night. I have been in 180 engage- 
ments, and I have, as you see, lost my eye 
and my arm, and been sorely wounded 
besides. It chanced that I came through, 
and here I am flying my admiral's flag ; but I 
remember many a man as good as me who 
did not come through. Yes," he added, as 
her ladyship broke in with a voluble protest, 
" many and many as good a man who has gone 
to the sharks or the land-crabs. But it is a 
useless sailor who does not risk himself every 
day, and the lives of all of us are in the 
hands of Him who best knows when to claim 

For an instant, in his earnest gaze and 
reverent manner, we seemed to catch a 
glimpse of the deeper, truer Nelson, the man 
of the Eastern counties, steeped in the virile 
Puritanism which sent from that district the 
Ironsides to fashion England within, and the 
Pilgrim Fathers to spread it without Here 
was the Nelson who declared that he saw the 
hand of God pressing upon the French, and 
who waited on his knees in the cabin of his 
flag-ship while she bore down upon the 
enemy's line. There was a human tender- 
ness, too, in his way of speaking of his dead 
comrades, which made me understand why 
it was that he was so beloved by all who 
served with him, for, iron-hard as he was as 
seaman and fighter, there ran through his 
complex nature a sweet and un-English 
power of affectionate emotion, showing itself 
in tears if he were moved, and in such tender 
impulses as led him afterwards to ask his 
flag-captain to kiss him as he lay dying in the 
cockpit of the Victory. 

My father had risen to depart, but the 
admiral, with that kindliness which he ever 
showed to the young, and which had been 
momentarily chilled by the unfortunate 
splendour of my clothes, still paced up and 
down in front of us x shooting out crisp little 
sentences of exhortation and advice. 

" It is ardour that we need in the Service, 
young gentleman," said he. " We need red- 
hot men who will never rest satisfied. We 
had them in the Mediterranean, and we shall 
have them again. There was a band of 
brothers ! When I was asked to recommend 
one for special service, I told the Admiralty 
they might take the names as they came, for 
the same spirit animated them all. Had we 
taken nineteen vessels, we should never have 

said it was well done while the twentieth 
sailed the seas. You know how it was with 
us, Stone. You are too old a Mediterranean 
man for me to tell yoo anything." 

" I trust, my lord, that I shall be with 
you when next we meet them," said my 

" Meet them we shall and must. By 
Heaven, I shall never rest until I have given 
them a shaking. The scoundrel Buonaparte 
wishes to humble us. Let him try, and God 
help the better cause ! " 

He spoke with such extraordinary anima- 
tion that the empty sleeve flapped about in 
the air, giving him the strangest appearance. 
Seeing my eyes fixed upon it, he turned with 
a smile to my father. 

" I can still work my fin, Stone," said he, 
putting his hand across to the stump of his 
arm. " What used they to say in the fleet 
about it ? " 

" That it was a sign, sir, that it was a bad 
hour to cross your hawse." 

"They knew me, the rascals. You can 
see, young gentleman, that not a scrap of the 
ardour with which I serve my country has 
been shot away. Some day you may find 
that you are flying your own flag, and when 
that time comes you may remember that my 
advice to an officer is that he should have 
nothing to do with tame, slow measures. Lay 
all your stake, and if you lose through no 
fault of your own, the country will find 
you another stake as large. Never mind 
manoeuvres ! Go for them ! The only 
manoeuvre you need is that which will place 
you alongside your enemy. Always fight, 
and you will always be right. Give not a 
thought to your own ease or your own life, 
for from the day that you draw the blue coat 
over your back you have no life of your own. 
It is the country's, to be most freely spent if 
the smallest gain can come from it. How is 
the wind this morning, Stone ? " 

" East-south-east," my father answered, 

"Then Cornwallis is, doubtless, keeping 
well up to Brest, though, for my own part, I 
had rather tempt them out into the open 

"That is what every officer and man in 
the fleet would prefer, your lordship," said 
my father. 

"They do not love the blockading service, 
and it is little wonder, since neither money 
nor honour is to be gained at it. You can 
remember how it was in the winter months 
before Toulon, Stone, when we had neither 
firing, wine, beef, pGrk^ nor flour aboard the 




ships, nor a spare piece of rope, canvas, or 
twine. We braced the old hulks with our 
spare cables, and Clod knows there was never 
a Levanter that I did not expect it to send us 
to the bottom. But we held our grip all the 
same. Yet I fear that we do not get much 
credit for it here in England, Stone, where 
they light the windows for a great battle, but 
they do not understand that it is easier for us 
to fight the Nile six times over, than to keep 
our station all winter in the blockade. But 
I pray God that we may meet this new fleet 
of theirs and settle the matter by a pell-mell 

11 May I be with you, my lord ! * said my 
father, earnestly, " But w T e have already 
taken too much of your time, and so I beg to 
thank you for your kindness and to wish you 
good morning," 

"Good morning, Stone!" said Nelson. 
" You shall have your ship, and if I can 
make this young gentleman one of my officers 
it shall be done. But I gather from his 
dress," he continued, running his eye over 
me, "that you have been more fortunate 
in prize-money than most of your comrades. 
For my own part, I never did nor could turn 
my thoughts to money -making," 

My father explained that I had been under 
the charge of the famous Sir Charles Tregellis, 
who was my uncle, and with ^^^^^^^^ 
whom I was now residing, 

1( Then you need no help 
from me/' said Nelson, with 
some bitterness* " If you 
have either guineas or interest 
you can climb over the heads 
of old sea-officers, though you 
may not know the poop from 
the galley, or a carronade from 
a long nine. Nevertheless — 
but what the deuce have we 

The footman had suddenly- 
precipitated himself into the 
room, but stood abashed 
before the fierce glare of the 
admiral's eye. 

" Your lordship told me to 
rush to you if it should 
come," he explained, holding 
out a large blue envelope. 

" By Heaven , it is my 
orders ! " cried Nelson, snatch- 
ing it up and fumbling with 
it in his awkward, one-handed 
attempt to break the seals. 

Lady Hamilton ran to his assistance, but 
no sooner had she glanced at the paper 
inclosed than she burst into a shrill scream, 
and throwing up her hands and her eyes, 
she sank backwards in a swoon* I could 
not but observe, however, that her fall was 
very carefully executed, and that she was 
fortunate enough, in spite of her insensibility, 
to arrange her drapery and attitude into a 
graceful and classical design* But he, the 
honest seaman, so incapable of deceit or 
affectation that he could not suspect it in 
others, ran madly to the bell, shouting for the 
maid, the doctor, and the smelling-salts, with 
incoherent words of grief, and such passionate 
terms of emotion that my father thought it 
more discreet to twitch me by the sleeve as a 
signal that we should steal from the room, 
There we left him then in the dim-lit London 
drawing-room, beside himself with pity for 
this shallow and most artificial woman, while 
without, at the edge of the Piccadilly curb, 
there stood the high dark berline ready 
to start him upon that long journey which 
was to end in his chase of the French 
fleet over 7,000 miles of ocean, his meeting 
with it, his victory, which confined Napoleon's 
ambition for ever to the land, and his death, 
coming, as I would it might come to all of 
us, at the crowning moment of his life. 

b yGo6gfe 

continued, ) 


Illustrated Interviews. 


By William G. FitzGerald. 


OR years and years " Charlie " 
Beresford has been idolized 
by every class and colour all 
round the globe. The sturdy 
"R,P. * have had him in their 
eye and in their heart, and on 
many memorable occasions he has filled 
these national (and metaphorical) organs to 
the exclusion of all else. We like our idols 
to be always before us ; so when Lord 
Charles does disappear for a week or tw&, 
sure enough up crops some "character- 
actor" at the variety theatres to keep warm 
our admiration for this splendid fellow. 

At the moment of writing, Lord Charles 
is rusticating at Ham ; from which, a 
priori \ the late Sherlock Holmes would 
doubtless gather (and rightly) that the 
hero of a hundred fights went in for a 
little farming. It was here I found him. 
He must be doing something, or he'd go 
crazy. His father, 
the Rev, I,ord John 
Beresford (a fter^yards 
fourth Marquis of 
Waterford), was always 
killing game — when 
he wasn't saving souls, 
An impecunious 
Methodist called one 
Sunday morning on 
Lord John in order 
to raise a question of 
theology, and — ulte- 
riorly — a small loan. 
He found the mus^ 
cular pastor en plein 
air % bringing down no 
end of birds. After 
numerous unavailing 
hints at his real mis- 
sion, the visitor burst 
out, vehemently :— 

" My Lord, did the 
apostles shoot on the 
Sabbath Day?" 

" Can't say," was the 
quick reply j "but Tin 
certain they fished!" 

Lord Charles Beres- 
ford was born on the 
roth February, 1846, 
at Phillipstown, in 
Ireland, At the age 
of nine he was sent 

to Bayford House School, in Herts, where 
also were Lord Rosebery, "Jimmy" Lowther t 
Lord George Hamilton, and his brother Lord 
Claude; and lastly; Lord Charles's own two 
brothers, the late Marquis of Waterford and 
Lord William Beresford — theV.C man. 

The duckling does not take to the water 
more readily than this boy took to sport 
of every kind — except cricket ; he always 
loathed cricket, the ball being notoriously 
erratic* And yet he was a delicate child. 
After two years under Mr. Renneau, at 
Bayford House, he became very poorly, and 
was transferred to the care of a private tutor 
— Canon Payne— at Walmer. In both Ser- 
vices a Beresford had won renown ; so, before 
Lord Charles had even entered his teens, he 
fixed his bright blue eyes on the Navy. The 
fact was, he found home restraint irksomej 
and he rather fancied a life on the ocean 
wave; there was such a fine, free flavour 
about it. 

About March, 186 j, 
Lord Charles left the 
Britannia {which he 
entered as a cadet in 
1859), and entered 
the Marlborough , a 
three -decker, of 4,000 
tons, with a crew of 
1,150 men. Now, if 
you want to kindle 
the gallant sailor into 
enthusiasm, you have 
only to mention this 
ship; to this day he 
speaks of her with 
pride as "the smartest 
ship in the Service" — 
of course, in those 
days. The Marlboroiigh 
was * the flag-ship of 
Vice-Admiral Sir W. 
Fanshawe - Martin, 
commanding the Me- 
diterranean Fleet. 

M I joined her," says 
l^ord Charles, "at St 
Helens, in the Isle 
of Wight. I'm told 
I was a delicate- 
looking little chap of 
about fifteen. Having 
put off in a small boat 

T«££ N - ■' 'nal fatto my ch es t, I prc- 

From a Fhot€. by «, 




sently climbed up the side of the vessel, 
where the great big boatswain's mate was 
waiting for me. Never shall I forget that 
man*s remark to his colleague : — 

" 'Mate, 'ere's another orficer kirn aboard 
jist in toime ; but, pore little beggar!- lie 
ain't long fur this world-* 

" Were it not for the Marlborough" Lord 
Charles declares, " I should never have stayed 
in the Service." 

At this early stage he began to assert him- 
self. He once got a severe drubbing for 
suggesting "structural alterations" in the 
ship and silence at work, I should explain 
that, in those days, a perfect pande- 
monium reigned whenever important orders 
were given on board. Everybody bellowed 
and cursed themselves hoarse. So fre- 
quently was young Beresford in trouble 
that, at last, he was sent home from the 
Marlborough, and later on drafted to the 
Defence^ one of the ships of the first ironclad 
squadron. While m this vessel, he saved 
two lives from 
drowning, gaining 
the Royal Humane 
Society^ bronze 
medal, and also 
that of the Liver- 
pool Shipwreck 
and H u m a n e 
Society. The De- 
fence nearly drove 
Lord Charles out 
of the Navy, He 
complains of her 
slackness and 
dirtiness; but 
doubtless the 

spoiled him for any other 

We next find Lord 
Charles in the Clio, a 
sailing corvette of 1,472 
tons, belonging to the 
Pacific Station. Then 
came an unlucky spell. 
In Vancouver one day the 
midshipmen got up a 
point-to-point race; 
and a small crowd of 
ponies and riders subse- 
quently got mixed on a 
narrow wooden bridge. 

t( I came off rather 
badly," remarked Lord 
Charles. u My leg and 
three ribs were broken, 
and one side of my face was dreadfully cut. 
I remember I was insensible for twenty- 
four hours." 

Again, a paper chase at Valparaiso resulted 
in Lord Charles breaking his collar-bone and 
sustaining concussion of the brain ; this time 
his horse came to grief over some timber, 
and he was taken back to his ship on a 
mule, a charitable Chilian walking alongside 
in true Biblical style. But no wonder he 
remembers the Clio ! Later on he fell 20ft. 
down the hold and broke another three ribs. 
This chapter of accidents is not yet com- 
plete. Lord Charles was one day out fishing 
in the dingey with two other middies ; the 
Clio was then near Panama* One of the 
middies couldn't swim, so he was idiotic 
enough to fall overboard into waters infested 
with enormous sharks. 1 .ord Charles jumped 
in after him and brought him to the surface. 
But the boat had glided swiftly on, and the 
youngster remaining in it didn't know how 
to manage the sails. Altogether it was not a 

by LiOOgle 




cheerful situation. The 
rescuer was rapidly grow- 
ing faint, so he shouted 
to the middy to lower the 
sails and get out the oars. 
This the lad succeeded in 
doing, and a few minutes 
later Lord Charles 
struggled into the boat 
exhausted, and deposited 
his dripping companion 
on the seat. 

Young Beresford would 
do the most outrageous 
things in sheer exuberance 
of spirit* When the Clio 
touched at Honolulu he 
stepped ashore in search 
of adventure. As nothing 
extraordinary turned up, he made for 
the American Consul's house, where he 
promptly climbed the flagstaff and dragged 
down the t4 Stars and Stripes." He took the 
flag to his ship and slung it in a basket to 
the mainmast. Of course, he was found out, 
and then there was trouble. Both he and 
his companion were ordered to replace the 
flag in broad daylight ; but this Lord 
Charles flatly refused to do. His con- 
nection with the Navy would have 
ended there and then had not a friend 
telegraphed details to his mother. The 
Marchioness at once sent this message: 
u Replace it, for my sake.'* Then he 
consented, and even hired a photo- 
grapher to perpetuate the interesting 
ceremony. After this, the troublesome 
boy was sent home. About the year 
1862, however, he was ordered to the 
Tribune \ a frigate of 1,500 tons, under 
Captain Lord nillford (the present Earl 
of Clanwilliam), who was requested to 
report upon his conduct once a month. 

41 I learned a tremendous lot in the 
Tribune" remarks Lord Charles; 
'* tailoring, sailmaking, and so on. 
I've cut out and made no end of 
£ jumpers J and trousers, and could sew 
a hundred yards of canvas to-morrow 
if necessary/* What is more, he can 
stoke a steamer, repair a boat, build a 
house, break the fieriest horse, and 
make a table or a chair. 

By the way, Lord Charles passed for 
sub-lieutenant while on the Tribune ^ 
taking a coil of rope into the captain's 
cabin wherewith to demonstrate before 
the examiners. Altogether, he spent 
about four years on the Pacific Station, 

LORD CHARLES Jit- H KM- OK t) AT Tilt AGJ5 OF ifl- 

and saw a very great deal 
of service. The last ship 
he served in before coming 
home was the SuJlej] a 
sailing frigate of 3,066 
tons. One day in 1866, 
while in this ship, Lord 
Charles was noticeably 
moody and depressed — a 
most unusual thing for 

"What's up?" asked 
his messmates, with the 
joyous flippancy of youth. 
" I feel certain there's 
somethingwrung at home," 
was the mournful reply ; 
"either my father or my 
mother is dead." 
And so it was. The Marquis of Water- 
ford (formerly Lord John Beresford) had died 
the previous night. Lord Charles came home 
from the Pacific in 1868; but I can't close 
this part of his career without relating a 
couple of funny incidents that happened 
during his service on this station. 

He once lay ill at a hotel in San Francisco, 


Frwn a Photograph. 




and presents of fruit and flowers were left for 
him daily. One morning the proprietor of 
the establishment met the head waiter— a 
stately, serious man — on the stairs; the latter 
was carrying a suspicious-looking basket. 
** What ha' ye got there ? " queried the pro- 
prietor, sternly* "Ifs an offering for the 
Lord" was the solemn reply. 

Lord Charles on another occasion attended 
the burial service of a marine who died at 
Monte Video. The coffin was brought into 
a room, but there was nothing to rest it Gn. 
"I met an old salt dodging here and there, 
evidently looking for something, so I said to 
him, sharply, * What do you want?' I 
thought he was mad when he yelled : 
* Three cheers for the coffin.'" At first it 
strikes one as an idiotic, inconsequent 
answer, but the man meant " chairs." 

Lord Charles way twenty- two when he 
came home, and he at once went to college 
at Portsmouth to pass his examination. 
About this time there was a big Fenian 
scare, and we presently find the young lieu- 
tenant appointed to the Research^ guardship 
off Holyhead. 

" I remained in the Research about seven 
months/' says Lord Charles; u and during 
that time I used to run across to Dublin and 
ride to hounds, so that I was able to tell rny 
friends I rode about eighty 
miles to covert" 

One night Lord Charles and 
two other dashing junior officers 
fixed their eyes longingly on 
the great gilded eagle that swung 
out from an inn in Holyhead. 
The temptation was too great, 
so they got upon each other's 
shoulders in order to reach the 
prize. Beresford was on top t 
yet he couldn't quite reach the 
sign, so he leaped up at it, with 
the result that the eagle came 
down with a terrific crash, 
almost burying him beneath its 
widespread wings. 

It turned out that the inn- 
keeper had heard the conspira- 
tors talking outside his window, 
therefore he knew the meaning 
of the crash, and was ready to 
pursue. On running out, how- 
ever, he only chased two fast- 
retreating figures down the 
street, not noticing little Lord 
Charles beneath the fallen sign. 
That eagle was actually taken 
on board the Research^ provided 


with a fashionable stand-up collar, and placed 
on the breakfast-table. As in all our hero's 
pranks, however, ample restitution was made. 

After having served on the Koyal yacht 
Victoria and Albert^ Lord Charles was, on 
the 17th October, 1868, appointed to the 
Galatea^ commanded by the Duke of Edin- 
burgh (now of Saxe-Coburg), with whom he 
went round the world. It will be remem- 
bered that the Duke had started previously, 
and got as far as Sydney, when he was shot 
by OTarrel. To this day, I believe, His 
Royal Highness wears the bullet on his 

11 We were the first Europeans who ever 
saw the Mikado," remarked Lord Charles, 
" and we would have been cut down in the 
streets by the Japs were we not guarded by 
thirty or forty men.' 5 Truly, all that is changed 
now in H the England of the Far East," 

The cruise of the Galatea was much what 
you might imagine. The ship touched at 
every important port, and there were any 
number of receptions, presentations 1 big 
shoots, grand durbars, and the like. To 
say that the party had a hospitable greeting 




CB1C8 of EBlJfBUttilf* 

everywhere seems silly* Even the midship- 
men had studs of horses placed at their 
disposal In New Zealand, Lord Charles 
tells me, they met in society a Maori lady — 
( li I took her in to dinner") — who afterwards 
threw off the veneer of civilization and "ran 
amuck " among the missionaries, killing 
several, and preaching the destruction of 
the white man generally. 

Lord Charles tells an interesting story 
about the iL Haunted Dock," at Sydney ; for 
he cleared up a long-standing mystery when 
the Galatea was at that place. Cockator 
Dock: was cut in the solid rock by convicts ; 
and every night curious tappings were heard 
in the vicinity. These sounds were commonly 
supposed to he caused by the spirits of dead 
convicts. One night Lord Charles resolved 
to find the ghost, so he took with him old 
Quartermaster Kemp. These two tried in 
vain for hours to locate the sounds. At one 
moment they would be certain they knew 
exactly where the noises came from, but when 
they got there they saw nothing. At last Lord 
Charles was forced to give up the search; and 
u he was leaving the place he savagely kicked 
at an old plank that lay on a rugged ledge of 
rock, This was immediately dislodged, 
revealing — tit>o enormous frogs ! These were 
the "ghosts." Their unearthly croak was 
always caught up by the surrounding rocks, 
and echoed and re -echoed here and there, 
until it was utterly impossible to locate the 
real source of the sound. 

** We took the frogs back to the ship in a 
pail/' remarked Lord Charles ; " and the 
Sydney people recall the affair ti this day*" 
The gallant sailor will long remember the 
Galatea^ for when that vessel was at the 
Falkland Islands, he nearly lost his life. 

One bitterly cold night Lord Charles got 
back to the ship at half- past eight, after 

Eieht , ata 

a tiring day's goose 
shooting. Just as 
he stepped on 
board he heard the 
awful cry, "Man 
overboard!" It 
was the sentry who 
had disappeared 
beneath the float- 
ing ice, great coat, 
rifle and all Now, 
although our 
hero's pockets 
were stuffed with 
cartridges, and he 
was clad in heavy 
garments, he 
instantly seized one end of a coil of rope 
and leaped into the sea. 

" I went down, and down, and down," says 
Lord Charles, "until 1 began to think the 
rope was not fastened to anything. At last, 
however, I grasped my man, the rope Urame 
taut, and I began to ascend. The ship's 
corporal helped us both out." 

This incident has a sequel About fifteen 
years afterwards. Lord Charles was speaking 
at a political meeting at Enfield, in support of 
Lord Folkestone's candidature* The hall was 
packed, and everybody was paying great 
attention to the speech, when suddenly there 
was a scuffle at the back* 

There were also cries of " Order, order ! " 
"Chuck him out!" and that kind of thing, 
when Lord Charles shouted, " Let the man 
come up here to the platform, and we'll hear 
what he's got to say." The man struggled 
forward in great excitement and a tattered 
condition. He only wanted to shake his 
saviour's hand. He had recognised Lord 
Charles as the officer who had saved him 
from the icy seas off the Falkland Islands. 
A public explanation followed, and an ovation 
followed that. It was a fortuitous incident 
in Lord Folkestone's electoral campaign* 

One result of the Galatea's tour was an 
extensive zoological collection, which included 
a big elephant. This great beast was some- 
thing of a nuisance ; indeed, had it not been 
for Lord Charles, he would never have 
adorned the Dublin Zoo* "I used to teach 
him funny tricks, such as standing on his 
hind legs. Oh ! it was very simpV, If I 
wanted him to raise one leg, I merely pricked 
him with a pin." The elephant was taken 
for a run ashore every time the Galatea put 
into port, but it was frequently a tremendous 
job to get him back again* In these cases 
Lord Charles was ahvay.s sent for, 




"He had one trick I never taught him, 
and which eventually resulted in the death of 
his keeper. If anyone tried to pass him in 
his box, he would jostle that person playfully 
against the walL Therefore, I never went 
into his den without an iron spike which I 
held horizontally, so that when the animal 
sidled up, he felt the prick*" 

When at last this elephant was landed at 
Plymouth, and was being transported by rail to 
London, a marine, 
named Paton, jour- 
neyed in the same 
truck, as keeper 

"When the train 
got to Paddington, 
poor Pat on was dead, " 
remarked Lord 
Charles. 4( He had 
been crushed against 
the side of the truck 
as he was trying to 
pass the elephant, 
and a bolt in the 
timber had broken 
his spine/' 

I n r 8 7 1 the Galatea 
came home, and Lord 
Charles settled down 
for a time as a 
country gentleman. 
Even this had its 
mild excitements, 
though, for on one 
occasion he rode in 
a steeplechase with 
six other gentlemen, 
five of whom (includ- 
ing himself) broke 
their collar - hones 
over the same fence. 

On November ist, 1872, Sir Harry Keppel, 
RLC.B., made Lord Charles his flag-lieutenant 
on the Royal Adelaide, flag-ship at Devon- 
port. About this time a first-rate story went 
about Plymouth, to this effect : Lord Charles 
and Sir Harry were driving home one night 
in a tandem dog-cart — they had been dining. 
Presently they came to a toll-gate and aroused 
the custodian, who was sleepy and uncivil 
Lord Charles gave him half a sovereign and 
a lot of abuse, whereupon he took the former 
and then beat a retreat, leaving the gate shut, 
The two then dismounted, broke off the 
hinges of the gate with big stones, and put 
the whole concern crosswise on the dog-cart, 
to the detriment of the springs ; the horse in 
the shafts was nearly lifted off the ground 
with the weight behind, They then drove 

through the town triumphantly, and chopped 
up the gate for firewood. 

I have said that Beresfdrd was always 
pugnacious. Listen to this* He had a row 
one day in Plymouth with a cabman ; it was 
the time-worn argument about fares, followed 
by satire and invective. The two arranged 
to fight it out, and Lord Charles (who had 
been taught boxing by a marine on the Clio) 
actually hired a room for the purpose. Both 


men turned up with backers, but the cabman 
came off best Lt He could see rather better 
than I could at the finish," remarked Lord 
Charles. About this time, by the way, Lord 
Charles received his first command — the 
Goshawk \ a composite gunboat of 408 tons. 

In 1874 the "grate say captain " (as the 
Irish priests called him} was asked to stand 
for Parliament, by his brother, Lord Water- 
ford At first he declined, but when it was 
pointed out that he could do much for the 
Service in the House, he consented. I can't 
describe in detail his first election, with its 
fights and excitements. Here and there he 
was stoned. One day he met an old chap 
who remembered the '26 election, when one 
of the Beresfords spent ^30,000 to beat a 
Steward who squandered ^18,000, 




" Lard Char — les," whined the old fellow 
— " ye're no man." " I don't agree with 
you," replied the candidate, " but why d'ye 
say that ? " " Yerra, the lasht time a Beres- 
ford stud, it's up to me knees I was in blood 
and whishky ; but the divil a dhrop av 
ayther have I seen this toime." 

In 1875 came the great Indian tour of the 
Prince of Wales, and Lord Charles was 
appointed naval aide-de-camp for that gor- 
geous excursion. Big books have been 
written about this tour, but one tragi-comic 
incident stands out clearly in Lord Charles's 

"We were elephant shooting in Ceylon, 
and were driving back to Colombo, when the 
horses in the wagonette showed signs of 
fatigue. Lord Aylesbury, who was on the 
box, took the reins from our Tamil coachman, 
whereupon the animals swerved just as we 
were crossing a rude bridge, and the whole 
equipage, passengers and all, were precipitated 
into the nullah below. No one was hurt. I 
playfully belaboured the coachman with a 
bundle of elephants' tails, and then told him 
to mount the box. At the same time 1 
turned to the Malay sergeant, and said, in 
solemn tones, ' Cut that man's head off.' He, 
thinking it an awful crime to upset the Prince, 
instantly drew his sabre, and rushed at the 
coachman. Fortunately the latter understood 
English, and scrambled on to a ledge of rock 
out of reach. Seeing that my joke had 
nearly caused a catastrophe, I called out to 
the sergeant, 'The Prince has graciously 
pardoned him ; let him come down/ " 

In the next picture, Lord Charles is seen 
in an elephant howdah, with his Chinese 
servant, Tom Fat This extraordinary worthy 
merits a paragraph or two to himself; but 
I had better give the story in his master's 
own words : " Tom Fat was sold to me for 
twenty-five dollars, the vendor being his own 
uncle, who lived near Hong Kong. Every- 
body liked my Chinese boy. When he had 
been with me nine years, it suddenly struck 
him that he had never had a regular holiday 
like the rest of men. Therefore I gave him 
a week's leave ; this he spent in London. In 
the same time he had also spent ^87 of my 
money. As he didn't turn up after ten days, 
I knew something was wrong ; and eventually 
the police found him at the Criterion giving 
a supper to fourteen ' lady-friends ' ! " 

What was the meaning of this ? Why, the 
guileless Chinese boy was an accomplished 
forger ; and before he started on his little 
holiday in town, he forged his master's name 
to a cheque for ^2,000. Now, Lord Charles 

is not a man of strict business principles ; he 
is far too easy-going and good-humoured. 
His servants supply him with small change 
when necessary, and he never carries a 
watch. The forgery would probably have 
gone on much longer were it not that Tom 
Fat dropped into the Marlborough Club one 
day, and presented a beautifully-executed 
I O U (of course, in his master's name) for 
^30. In due time Lord Charles was gently 
reminded of this "little bit of paper," and 
then Thomas's little game was up. He got 
five years' " penal," but his old master got 
him off after he had served three. Lord 
Charles eventually paid Tom Fat's passage 
to China, and set him up there as a book- 
seller, he being studiously inclined. 

"He was born to rise," concluded his 
lordship ; " and I shouldn't be surprised if 
he figured as a high mandarin during the last 


After serving in the turret ship Thunderer^ 
Lord Charles was, on June 12th, 1879, 
appointed to the command of the Royal 
yacht Osborne \ Prince Louis of Batten berg 
being one of the lieutenants. This command 
he gave up in 188 1 to take over the famous 
gun-boat Condor^ of 780 tons. In May, 
1882, that redoubtable little vessel was 
ordered to Alexandria ; and the next incident 
Lord Charles has to tell deals with the 
memorable day of the massacre — Sunday, 
June nth, 1882, when even the British 
Admiral, Sir Beauchamp Seymour (afterwards 
Lord Alcester), narrowly escaped with his life. 

" I was strolling towards the Grand Square, 
when I met a brother officer, who asked me 
to drive up the town with him to see if his 
wife and family were safe. We hired a con- 
veyance off the rank, and proceeded on 
our way. Presently we saw crowds of 
wounded Greeks coming towards us, and 
farther along were menacing crowds. A few 
minutes later our carriage was surrounded, 
and the crowd began to strike at us. I saw 
it meant death to stay there, especially as 
our rascally * cabby ' was in perfect sympathy 
with the mob. Leaping on to the seat, 
amid a perfect hail of blows from sticks 
and miscellaneous weapons, I took the reins 
and commenced to lash the horse. The 
crowd had to give way, and in a few 
minutes more we were beyond danger. It 
was a near thing though, for we were nearly 
pulled out of the carriage." Seventy-three 
European bodies were afterwards found. 
Subsequent events are matters of history — 
the rise of Arabi — Egypt's Cromwell — and 
the bombardment of Alexandria. 





/^ I 

! ijf^" 


iLi H 

Hy W. L. Wytlu, A. It A. Bit pcnnis*ion o/ tfu Finn Art Society MS, JVev Bond Street. 

After the riots came an exodus such as 
Egypt hadn't seen since the departure of the 
troublesome, grumbling Israelites, In ten 
days Lord Charles sent away from 12*000 to 
18,000 refugees. Many went on board ships in 
the harbour, others cleared right away with 
nothing more than the clothes they wore. 
Meanwhile, Arabi — or " Horrible Pasha," as 
our bluejackets used to call him —was getting 
things ready — organizing the army, fort- 
building, and mounting big guns. Our 
admiral protested, and Arabi said he would 
give up further preparations. One night, 
though, -rival search-light beams were thrown 
on Alexandria, and, sure enough, there were 
swarms of Arabs working away on the defences 
for dear life. Then it was resolved to throw 
far more damaging things into the town. The 
first shot, weighing three-quarters of a ton, 
and travelling at the rate of a mile in three 
seconds, was fired at 7 a.m., on July nth, 

Beresrord was instructed to keep his 
Condor fluttering about, rendering assistance 
here and there and carrying messages. But 
this role didn't suit him at all. After having 
helped off the stranded Hmeraire, which 
seemed desirous of taking up her anchorage 
in the Grand Square itself, Lord Charles 
actually challenged the Marabout Batteries- — 
one of the most formidable forts of Alexan- 
dria, manned by the flower of Arabi's artil- 
lerists. Remember, the Candor only carried 
three small guns, while the Marabout Fort 
mounted the following formidable armament : 
two 8-ton, two 12-ton, two icin. and two 
pin. guns, twenty 3 2 -pounders, and 1 five 

mortars ! No wonder the battery didn't 
deign to reply, but went on harassing the 
Monarch, Penelope, and Invincible. 

Of course, one shot would have disabled 
the Condor, yet it is a matter of history that 
after firing 200 rounds she silenced the fort, 
w hereupon the admiral hoisted the famous 
signal, "Well done, Condor^ — a cry that has 
often greeted the gallant sailor at great public 

At Park Gate House, Ham Common, 
Lord Charles has a paper-weight consisting 
of a fragment of a shell fired from the Condor y 
which passed right through the magazine of 


the Marabout Fort, without exploding. His 
museum also includes the Candor's binnacle, 
and the red and white flag of the conquered 
fort. He is a great man for getting trophies 
of his fights. In the stable you will see a 
long board on which is painted in big letters : 
* c Tell-el-Kebir." This is the actual name- 
board of the railway station near which the 
battle was foufh^ai f r0 rn 





OF TELL l£L-t£Elilfi, 

After having saved the Khedive, Tewfik, 
from Arabia vengeance (he got nothing in 
return save an autograph portrait, here 
reproduced), Lord Charles was intrusted 
with the policing of the town. It wanted 
a lot of policing. The rabble sprinkled 
petroleum here and there, and set fire to 
the houses ; they also considerately released 
the convicts, that the 
Litter might not miss any 
part of the fun. 

Having made the 
Ministry of Marine his 
head - quarters, Lord 
Charles set the Arabs to 
clear away the ruins, 
under the supervision of 
marines. For the first four 
days ten or twelve of his 
men were engaged night 
and day in writing out 
instructions to restore 
order. Twenty inter- 
preters were employed, 
including those sent with 
the patrols to prevent un- 
necessary punishments, 
Inquiries were held in 
thirteen different courts. 

Of course, the fierce 
fires that raged everywhere 
had to be dealt with; hut, 
unfortunately, the appliances were not such as 
would be approved by Captain Simonds. One 
steam er, with a leaky boiler, and two manuals 
were found ; but ladders, shovels, picks— all 
these were missing. Also, the hose was 
rotten or rat-eaten. To crown all, the water 
was thoughtfully cut off by Arabi 7 who built 
an earthwork across the canal at Kafer 
Dowar, two miles south. Nevertheless, on 
the twelfth day, Lord Charles was told that 
all the fires were out. We now find this 
distinguished officer promoted to captain. 

The Europeans who had watched the 
bombardment from the deck of the specially 
chartered P. and O. steamer Tanjore found 
their occupations gone when they got back 
to Alexandria — also their houses and shops. 


Still, no one seemed to take a gloomy 


of things. There was a photographer 
who found himself destitute. Did 
he retire to a dark room and " take" 
his own life ? Not a bit of it. He 
rigged up a stall in the street, 
borrowed a camera, got his chemicals 
on credit, and opened a subscription 
list for sets of fifty views of the town 
and forts, at £2 per set Within a 
year he had a fine establishment Then Lord 
Charles noticed a waitress in the cafe who, 
before the bombardment, had been the cul- 
tured principal of a ladies* school. He also 
came upon an old Irishman whom he had 
last seen sitting as model to an artist friend 
who was engaged in painting the head of St 
Matthew*. The old fellow was cleaning out 
the camels' stables, and 
on seeing Lord Charles 
he put down his shovel 
and said, with an air of 
apologetic disgust, "Nice 
okapaation fur wan o' the 
twelve Apostles; aint it?" 
Here I am reminded 
of the rich crop of stories 
associated with the career 
of this distinguished man. 
A labourer once wrote to 
him, saying that his wife 
had just had twins — a boy 
and a girl — and he wanted 
to call one u Lord Charles 
Beresford Brown," and the 
other " Princess of Wales 
Brown/' Lord Charles 
gave his permission, and 
obtained that of the 
Princess, Four months 
later the man wrote again \ 
11 1 am happy to inform 
you that ( Lord Charles Beresford Brown J 
is well and strong, but that * Princess of 
Wales Brown ' died this morning." 

Lord Charles is a man of few words, and 
those very much to the point Speaking in 
the House of Commons, one day, in reference 
to the Arab slave-dealers, he said, with great 
emphasis : " Mr. Speaker, we ought to catch 
these men, give 'em a fair trial, and then 
hang J em. ! * Unconventional, Lord Charles 
has always been. Receiving an invitation to 
dinner at Marlborough House one evening, 
he replied by wire : * 4 Sorry can't come. Lie 
follows by post." 

When order was restored in Alexandria, 
Lord Charles burned to get to the front, in 
orckr that he might have his share of fighting. 
The Khedm then wjnl him with fifty horses 




to see what was going on. The horses were 
towed in a lighter round from Alexandria to 
Ismailia and Port Said ; but as the man in 
charge of the steamer thought he knew 
navigation better than Lord Charles, the bow 
of the lighter was stove in, and a scene of 
awful confusion ensued* Beresford slid down 
from the steamer and cut the horses loose. 
Although the water was rushing in, the 
animals were fighting each other like mad ; 
and when the lighter sank, Lord Charles had 
to swim about for an hour and a half heading 
them towards the land 
Only six horses were 

Lord Charles couldn't 
get to the front, 
although he tried to 
push on as " special " 
for the New York 
Herald; then he went 
home. In September, 
1884, the Nile Expe- 
dition for the relief 
of Gordon was tardily 
decided on T and our 
hero was attached to 
Lord Wolseley's staff. 
On arriving at Cairo, 
he commenced the big 
task of getting the boats 
up to Korti ; and he 
insisted on taking his 
boiler plates (each 
weighing about 12 lb*) 
across the desert from 
Yl'ady Haifa- The im- 
portance of this is 
shown later on. 

As all the world 
knows, Lord Charles 
commanded the Naval 
Brigade at Abu Klea, 
at the close of which battle he was the sole 
survivor of a detachment in charge of the 
machine gun. He says that this Gardner 
gun jammed after firing thirty rounds, the 
enemy, 6,000 strong, being then 200yds. 
away. Lord Charles and the captain of the 
gun, Will Rboods, were trying to clear the 
barrel when the enemy were upon them. 
Rhoods was at once killed, and his com- 
manding officer was swept to the ground 
in the rush ; he escaped with only a 
few spear scratches. Among the killed 
at Abu Klea was Lord Charles's favourite 
donkey, "County of Waterford." When I 
asked him why he gave the ass such an 
outlandish name, he replied: "Because 

Digitized by LiOOQ IC 


From a Photo, 6* Prqfuaor FtUm Lvckkardf, Vienna, 

the second time I contested it I lost my 

It w T as a terrible time. Lord Charles one 
day paid eight shillings for a lemonade bottle 
half-full of water; and later on he read the 
burial service over Cameron and St, Leger 
Herbert^ the newspaper correspondents, who 
were killed at Abu Km, Of course, Lord 
Charles can recall no end of interesting 
incidents. He speaks of one of his men 
who, in one battle, received forty-six wounds 
and yet lived. 

It is a matter of 
history how Sir Charles 
Wilson made a dash 
for Khartoum by way 
of the river. He 
reached the capital of 
the Soudan on January 
28th t 1885, but he was 
too late ; the city was 
in the hands of the 
Mahdi, and it was 
alive with warriors and 
gay with banners. The 
vicinity was also alive 
with lead presently, and 
Wilson prudently 
steamed out of range. 
He had had a terrible 
journey up, the river 
banks being literally 
lined with batteries 
and entrenchments. 
For example, there 
were four Krwpp guns 
mounted at Halfiych. 

Plainly, there was 
nothing for it but to 
go back. Unfortu- 
nately, the pilots were 
treacherous, and, 
thanks to them, the two 
steamers were wrecked below the Shublaka 
Cataracts, Wilson then landed his men on 
the island of Mernat, and sent Lieut Stuart 
Wortley (who ought to have received the 
V.C and didn't) down to the British camp 
at Gubat with news of his plight Beresford 
forthwith rose from his sick bed, manned 
one of the two remaining li penny " steamers 
at Cubat (the Sqfith), and then started to the 
rescue, on the afternoon of February ist. 
News of Wilson's position was also sent 
across the desert to Wolseley, at Korti. 

The tremendous fight of the Safiek^ lasting 
twenty-two hours, is very well known, and it 
eclipses even the performance of the Condor. 
Beresford hadf-j^wpj^iirdner guns, two light 





From the jrictvn by L*ickin*>i% ami Porter. 

guns, and his handful of riflemen* Among 
his officers was Mr. Herbert Ingram (of 
whom more hereafter), who served one of the 
Gardner guns after its captain was killed. 
The enemy had batteries of heavy guns and 
about 4,000 riflemen. "Victory was almost 
ours/* remarked Lord Charles, "and we 
were giving a cheer, when at the second 
4 Hip,' a big shot struck the SaficVs boiler. 
A vast cloud of water and steam rose from 
the vessel, scalding seven men ; Wilson 
thought she had been blown up." Lord 
Charles actually anchored the little steamer, 
in her crippled condition, within 2ocyds, 
of the enemy's works ; he then put out the 
fires, produced in triumph his boiler plates, 
and had a patch put on in ten hours, while 
his men on deck made such excellent practice 
that the enemy's riflemen dared not even 
show their heads. Mr Henry Ben bow was 
the engineer who mended the boiler under 
these trying circumstances. ^Certainly, Ben- 
bow ought to have got the V.C.," said Lord 
Charles to me. u It's a curious thing, 7) he 
went on, " that while a man may receive a 
V.C. for saving a single life, he seldom gets 
it for saving many/' Lord Charles possesses 
a big painting (here shown) of this famous 
fight, and the rough sketch for it was pre- 
pared by Mr. Ingram on the spot. 

Here I must digress for a moment to tell 
the weird, extraordinary story of the ultimate 
fate of Mr. Herbert Ingram, Lord Charles 


Vol. xiL- 

Beresford's most brilliant and dashing volun- 
teer. In the first place, Lord Charles out- 
lined the story for me, and Sir William 
Ingram very kindly filled in the details of his 
brother's tragic death. So keen was Mr. 
Ingram's interest in the Gordon Relief 
Expedition, that he actually took his own 
steam launch out to Egypt to join the 
expeditionary forces. He was at Abu Klea, 
Metemneh, and anywhere else where there 
was any hot fighting to be done. 

As a kind of souvenir of his adventures in 
Egypt and the Soudan, Mr. Ingram at length 
bought a mummy for ^50 from the English 
Consul at Luxor. The mummy was that of 
a priest of Thetis, and it bore a mysterious 
inscription. After obtaining, at Cairo, the 
necessary permits, Ingrain sent the mummy 
home in a big case, which was opened by his 
brothers at the offices of the Illustrated 
London News. Over the face was a papier- 
mache mask, which is now deposited in the 
British Museum, The last-named institution 
was asked to send along an expert to decipher 
and translate the inscription, which was long 
and blood-curdling. It set forth that whoso- 
ever disturbed the body of this priest should 
himself be deprived of decent burial ; he 
would meet with a violent death, and his 
mangled remains would be "carried down 
by a rush of waters to the sea." This is the 
first part of a fascinating romance of real 

Original from 



Some time after sending the 
mummy home, Mr, Ingram 
and Sir Henry Meux were ele- 
phant-shooting in Somaliland* 
when one day the natives 
brought in a great chunk of 
dried earth, saying it was the 
spoor of the biggest elephant 
in the world. The temptation 
was too much for the two 
sportsmen, so they hunted up 
that herd. " Fve left my ele- 
phant-gun behind, TI cried Sir 
Henry, in dismay. u Take 
mine," said Ingram, gener- 
ously, leaving himself with a 
comparatively impotent small- 

When they sighted the ele- 
phants, Sir Henry went after 
a bull, and Mr. Ingram turned 
his attention to an enormous 
cow. His method was to turn 
round in his saddle, fire a 
shot, and then gallop his pony 
on ahead, dodging the in- 
furiated elephant among the 
trees. At last, looking back 
for another shot, he was 
swept out of his saddle by 
the drooping bough of a tree. 
The moment he reached the 
ground the wounded elephant 
was upon him, goring and 
trampling him to death, not- 
withstanding the heroism of 
his Somali servant, who poured a charge of 
shot right into the monster's ear. 

For days the elephant would not let any- 
one approach the spot, but 
eventually Mr. Ingram's re- 
mains were reverently gathered 
up and buried for the time 
being in a nullah, or ravine. 
Never again was the body * 
seen, for, when an expedition 
was afterwards dispatched to 
the spot, only one sock and 
part of a human bone were 
found; these pitiful relics were 
subsequently interred at Aden 
with military honours. It was 
found that the floods caused 
by heavy rains had washed 
away Mr, Ingram's remains, 
thereby fulfilling the ancient 
prophecy— the awful threat of 
the priest of Thetis, The 
mummy is now in the posses 



sion of Lady Meux, and Sir 
Harry has the tusks of the 

But let us return to Lord 
Charles Beresford's desperate 
fight on the Nile. It is diffi- 
cult to over-rate the effects of 
this action at Wad-ehHabeshi, 
which Lord Charles fought in 
a miserable little Thames 
steamer, rotten with age and 
caulked with rags. 

Not only did it save Lord 
Charles and his men, and 
Wilson and his party (who 
were soon safe at Korti), but 
by the salutary effect it pro- 
duced on the great Emir, 
El-Nejumi, Sir Redvers Buller 
was enabled to withdraw the 
desert column in safety with- 
out being threatened by the 
Soudanese. This is proved by 
Slatin Pasha, and also by a 
letter from Father Ohrwalder, 
who escaped from Khartoum 
after having been a prisoner 
for ten years in the hajids of 
the Mahdi, 

In December, 1889* Lord 
Charles took command of the 
Undaunted, twin - screw 
armoured cruiser of 5,600 
tons. "You see," he says, 
bitterly, " I had to get in my 
sea-time to qualify for flag 
rank," Will it be believed that Lord Charles's 
service with the Gordon Relief Expedition, 
and his subsequent heroic rescue of Wilson — 
in all 315 days — was dis- 
allowed by the Admiralty as 
" sea-time " ? With his Naval 
Brigade he was present in four 
sanguinary actions, besides 
almost daily skirmishes up 
arid down the Nile in search 
of fuel for the camp and fresh 
meat for the sick. 

There are actually se%'eral 
well-known precedents which 
emphasize the enormity ot 
this scandal On March 28th, 
1863, Captain (afterwards Sir 
George) Tryon got one year 
and two months* sea -time 
allowed by Order in Council 
for acting as transport officer 
at Massowah, during the 



^ ~ ~ , ] ... Original from 







months of this lime were spent in an 
Admiralty office making up accounts- Then 
over and over again has this most distin- 
guished officer been passed over slightingly 
when G.S.P.'s (Good Service Pensions) and 
A.D.C.'s have been awarded These have 
been given to many of his juniors, not one 
of whom has seen even half his service 
before the enemy, The "true inwardness *' 
of this flagrant ill-treatment of a brilliant and 
popular officer, and the influence at work 
against him in high — very high — places, will 
one day be made public; but the matter 
has no place here, A less generous man 
than Lord Charles would have published the 
facts long ago. 

Here is reproduced a photo, which Lord 
Charles calls "The Two of Everything." 
There are his two daughters, Kathleen and 
Eileen ; two personal servants (valet and 
coxswain) ; two Arab ponies and two 
Egyptian donkeys ; and, lastly, Lord Charles's 

two pet bulldogs, "Alec" and "Bonny, 11 
The Undaunted came home on June 20th, 
1893, and paid off. Soon afterwards Lord 
Charles got command of the Steam Reserve 
at Chatham. Here he did invaluable service, 
passing thirty -three vessels into the Navy, 
after conducting the necessary trials. While 
at Chatham Lord Charles was induced to 
join the vast army of cyclists, out of sheer 
curiosity, " just to see what it was like." 

" I started on a hired machine," he con- 
fessed to me, "and practised perseveringly in 
a secluded part of Chatham Dockyard. My 
valet helped me. To this day," he went on, 
smilingly, t( I rather fancy the trees, walls, 
and even roads bear traces of my initiation 
into the mysteries of wheeling." 

Truly Lord Charles Beresford is a man of 
varied experience and many accomplish- 
ments. One comes away from him with 
Burke's description of Johnson ringing in 
one's ears — "a tremendous companion." 


JVem a Photo, by EUioU & Fry. 

by Google 

Original from 

From Behind the Speaker s Chair. 






dish, took 

WITH reference to the article in 
the March Number showing how 
few remain in the of 
Commons to-day of members 
present when, in 1857, the Duke 
of Devonshire, then Lord Caven- 
his seat for North 
Lancashire, the Duke writes to 
me making an addition to my list. 
According to his Grace's compu- 
tation, there are seated in the 
House to-day just six out of the 
six hundred and fifty-eight mem- 
bers who thronged the Chamber 
when he walked up the floor to 
take the oath* These are Mr, 
C. P. Villiers, who entered in 
1835, and now bears the vener- 
able title of Father of the House ; 
Sir John Mowbray, who, born in 
the Waterloo year, was first re- 
turned for Durham in 1853 ; Sir 
James Fergusson, returned for 
Ayrshire in 1854; Mr, Abel 
Smith , a silent member for more 
than forty years ; Sir Francis 

Fowell, first returned for Wigan 
in 1857 ; and Mr. W. B. Beach, 
who has sat for Hants since 1857, and has 
chiefly contented himself with saving the State 
by his vote, leaving to others the task of verbal 
instruction, of counsel and re- 

Putting the matter on this 
further considered and T I be- 
lieve, finally accurate basis, it 
is a remarkable thing, furnish- 
ing striking testimony of the 
mutability of the assembly, that 
within the limit of thirty-nine 
years, only six men should be 
left out of a company of six 
hundred and fifty-eight. The 
fact is more remarkable in the 
case of the House of Commons 
than of any other gathering 
numerically equal It is a place 
in which a man, having once 
obtained a footing, does not of 
his own will lightly leave, As 
in the case of the six veterans, 
relics of the Old Guard of 185 7, 
when a man of good family 
and high personal character 
becomes associated with a con- ^ XK 

ijiiized by Google 

nrcHT no\ t c, r. vtlliers. 

<T)ie Father of the House*) 

stituency, it grows into the habit of re- 
turning him time after time. For this, 
and other reasons, the House of Commons 
more than any other composite body is 
likely to preserve through the ages some 
leaven of its earlier element. 

During the last twenty 
increased years there have been 
pressure, new and increasing 
reasons why men hav- 
ing served a certain term in the 
House of Commons should vol- 
untarily withdraw from the scene, 
giving place to others. In Lord 
Palmerston's time the House 
seems to have been a nice, sleepy r 
respectable place, where such 
moderate measure of legislative 
business as was undertaken jogged 
along, carefully refraining from 
interfering with the dinner hour 
or engagements in the hunting- 
field, Mr + Gladstone's accession to 
power in 1868 changed the aspect 
of things. His almost super- 
natural energy vibrated through 
the erstwhile lethargic House, 
For a while, in 1874, under Mr, 
Disraeli's adroit generalship, the House grate- 
fully relapsed into a state of semi-somnolence. 
In 1S75 the Irish members stormed the 
place, and brought about a 
revolution in manner and pro- 
cedure, as complete in its way 
asthe French Revolution* There 
were prolonged Sessions, all- 
night sittings, pitched battles, 
and constant skirmishing, mak- 
ing the day's task of a member 
of the House of Commons far 
exceed that of any other work- 
ing-man. The reform of pro- 
cedure, giving the Speaker and 
the majority a firmer grip, has 
made impossible recurrence of 
the scenes that enlivened the 
Parliament of 1880-5. lo th ^t 
extent the labour of members 
of the House of Commons has 
been lightened. Rut in other 
ways the burden has been kept 
up. The institution of Grand 
Committees adds considerably 
to the day's work. For many 
members it practically means 








that the grind commences at noon instead of 
half-past four, a dozen years ago the hour for 
the commencement of public business. 

Beyond the Grand Committees are the 
Select Committees, whose number steadily 
increases. Superadded are the Royal Com- 
missions, which carry on work even in the 
Parliamentary recess. When in doubt play a 
Royal Commission, is an axiom in the Minis- 
terial game recognised with increased favour 
The establishment of the rule 
whereby debate automatically 
closes at midnight has enor- 
mously reduced the strain on 
the endurance of members of 
the House of Commons. When it was 
introduced, matters had reached a condition 
in which either some such rule must be 
established, or the pick of the assembly 
must needs retire. The pace had grown 
too fast even for some who, in point of 
years, could not claim the privilege of 
veterans. With the establishment of the 
twelve o'clock closing rule, there came into 
vogue an alteration sharply affecting the 
large proportion of members engaged in 
private business. The House, which used 
to meet at four, commencing public busi- 
ness at half-past, now meets an hour 
earlier. As in order to secure a seat members 
must needs be in their place before the day's 
business is, at three o'clock, opened with 
prayer, it is evident that their attendance 
upon office or Chamber private work must 
be confined to the hours preceding luncheon. 
This alteration of time has entirely and, 
from all points of view t happily altered the 
course of procedure in the House of 
Commons. Under the old rules questions 
dawdled on till six o'clock, or 
even half-past, A Minister in 
charge of a Bill probably 
found opportunity to make his 
speech before dinner. That 
was all that was possible in 
the available time. There 
followed a long interval — 
blank as far as business was 
concerned. About half-past 
ten members streamed back, 
the benches bubbled with ex- 
citement, favourite speakers 
came to the front, and the 
House more or less cheerfully 
made a night of it, In big 
debates, Mr. Gladstone (sup- 
pose he were Leader of the 
Opposition) would rise at 
eleven, or half-past, to sum 

Digitized by \jC 




up the debate. Mr. Disraeli, from the opposite 
Bench, might expect to find his opportunity 
about half-past twelve or one in the morn- 
ing. If the division were over by half- 
past two, members thought themselves 

B That fashion has disappeared 
'as completely as the equally ob- 
noxious crinoline, a contemporary 
fashion, has vanished from the 
lady's wardrobe. Except on the rarest occa- 
sions, everything important in the House of 
Commons happens before the dinner-hour. 
Increase of activity on the part of the provincial 
Press has something to do with this change of 
fashion* The leaders of debate, Mr Cham- 
berlain earliest amongst them, discovered 
that they have better chances of being reported 
at full length if they speak between four and 
eight o'clock than if, as was their wont, they 
interpose after the dinner - hour. Beyond 
that is the assurance that in similar circum- 
stances their chances of influencing public 
opinion is bettered* A speech delivered 
in Parliament now arrives in distant pro- 
vincial towns in time to be discussed in the 
editorial columns of the leading papers, an 
advantage not attainable under the old 

This earlier transaction of business, above 
all the certainty of the shutteis being put up 
at midnight, serves to make life in the House 
of Commons more possible. Changes were 
absolutely necessary if the machinery was to go 
on. Benefitting by them there remain enough 
of storm and stress to make the life wearing, 
and to account for the fact that, though the 
play goes on from year to year, the company 
on the stage is always changing, 

Colonel Saunder- 
a boat- son is so widely 
builder, recognised as a 
Pari iamentary 
force, a statesman of singularly 
judicial mind, as to obscure 
the bent of his natural genius. 
It is well known that if Mr, 
Gladstone had not entered 
the service of the public he 
might, amongst many other 
things, have been a woodman. 
Lord Salisbury is much 
happier in his workshop at 
Hatfield than at his desk in 
Downing Street, or on either 
Front Bench in the House 
of Lords* 

If Colonel Saunderson were 
qiWaUfft statesman he would 




be a boat-builder. As it is* he manages to 

steal some hours, even days, from political 

duties to planning and building ships, Prom 

the inception to the launching he does it all 

himself, or, where he takes on assistance, 

he personally supervises 

the labour He has trained 

a local carpenter with such 

success that between them 

they can turn out a yacht 

seaworthy from keel to 

mast-head. The Colonel 

also plans the engines, 

though that is necesafily 

work the carrying out of 

which must be committed 

to other hands. 

As he never sells a boat 
and is always building, he 
has quite a fleet under his 
flag, Ulster is now in 
a state of comparative 
quietude. If there should 
ever arise occasion when 
Ulster must needs fight, 
she will be strengthened 
by the reflection that, thanks to the industry 
and genius of one of her most patriotic sons, 
she has ready to hand the nucleus of a navy, 
A member of the American 
Senate tells me Mr. Bid- 
dulph Martin's enterprise, de- 
scribed in this page of the April 
Number of The Strand Magazine, is a 
mere trifle compared with what, on some- 
what similar lines, a lady has done in the 
United States* Mr. Martin, it will be 
remembered, devoted a considerable portion 
of his Parliamentary life between 1892 and 
the Dissolution in 1895 to obtaining the 
autograph and, in many cases, the photo- 
graph of members who sat in the House of 
Commons that passed the Home Rule Bill. 

The American lady, whose name is Mrs* 
Deems, conceived a far more stupendous 
scheme. In the Centennial year of the 
Republic she set to work to obtain the 
autograph and the photograph of every 
public man, and every woman prominently 
known, who were alive in the happy year 
that saw the hundredth anniversary of the 
Republic, She began with General Grant, 
who displayed quite unusual enthusiasm. He 
not only wrote his name in the album and 
add^d his photograph, but undertook to 
secure similar interesting records from all his 
colleagues in the Cabinet. 

This done, Mrs, Deems found her patriotic 
task quite easy- Through long weeks she 

Digitized by Google 



was found day by day seated in the old hall 
of the House of Representatives, with her 
album on a table near her. Senators and 
representatives passing by were invited to 
care for posterity by signing the book and, if 
they were good looking, 
adding their photographs. 
They were all good look- 
ing, and the volume visibly 
swelled. In addition to 
members of both Houses 
of the Legislature, Mrs, 
Deems obtained the auto- 
graph of members of the 
Diplomatic Corps resident 
at Washington. Outside 
the Parliamentary field she 
bunted up novelists, artists, 
sculptors, lawyers, every- 
one whose name spoken 
in the streets or written 
in the newspapers had a 
familiar sound. 

She had an iron safe 
specially made to hold her 
gigantic parchment album. 
On the 4th of July, 1876, she, in the presence 
of witnesses, solemnly deposited the album in 
the safe, having first inclosed it in an air- 
tight copper case. The safe was locked up, 
and Mrs. Deems, presenting the precious 
though bulky parcel to the nation, left it in 
the custody of the authorities of the Capitol 
When the guardians of the Capitol 
a white recovered their breath they dis- 
llephant. covered themselves in an em- 
barrassing situation. Here was 
a gigantic safe blocking the way wherever 
it was temporarily located, No authority 
had been given for leaving it there, and if 
there had there was no convenient place in 
which to hide it. 

Mrs* Deems was communicated with, and 
cordially invited to take away her treasure. 
She generously declined, protesting that she 
had presented it to her country, and would 
not be mean enough to withdraw the gift. 
An attempt was made to induce Congress to 
pass a resolution accepting the safe and its 
contents. At the time this was brought 
forward a new House was sitting. Many old 
members whose names were enshrined in 
the album were no longer returned. The 
new Congress would have nothing to do with 
the safe. But neither would Mrs, Deems, 

So there it stands to this day in the east 
portico of the Capitol, a thing 6ft, high 
and 4ft, wide. The last indignity has been 
done it by painting it the same greyish white 






colour as the wall against which it stands, with 
intent that it shall attract as little attention as 

It is a curious distinction that 
whilst the Attorney -General and 
the Solicitor-General for England 
are always knighted, the Lord 
Advocate, filling an analogous 
position in respect to Scotland, and the 
Attorney-General for Ireland, are both made 
Privy Councillors. As for the Solicitors- 
General of Scotland and Ireland, they in 
respect of titles share a common neglect. 

I believe that when in 1873 Mr, Vernon 
Harcourt and Mr Henry James were respec- 
tively raised to the dignity of Attorney- 
General and Solicitor- 
General of England, 
they demurred to ac- 
ceptance of the accus- 
tomed knighthood. 
Stern, unbending Radi- 
cals, they regarded with 
unconquerable distaste 
the prospect of being 
set apart from their 
fellows by the mark of 
knighthood, Mr* Vernon 
Harcourt, I have been 
told, went the length of 
seeing Mr. Gladstone 
on the subject, and en- 
deavoured to induce 
him to approve a varia- 
tion of the ordinary 

It was a new sensa- 
tion for the Premier* 
He had long been ac- 
customed to be pestered 
directly and indirectly 
for knighthoods. To have two rising, 
middle-aged young men not only begging to 
be let off acceptance of knighthood, but 
capable of arguing with ingenuity and force 
to show that the dignity and the post were 
not inseparable, was a novel experience. Mr. 
Gladstone could not deny himself the pleasure 
of arguing the matter out. But he ended as 
he began, by insisting that the newly-appointed 
law officers must, as their predecessors used, 
submit to the accolade. 

.Foci lis descensus. The Solicitor General 
of that day has become Lord James of 
Hereford, whilst his colleague, the Attorney- 
General of 1873, bears with dignified un- 
complaining the titular burden bid upon 
him on crossing the threshold of a Ministerial 
career, / -^ 1 

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It was possibly not in connection 
with these two learned knights 
that there lingers at the Herald's 
Office a story which even at this 
time of day makes Garter King- 
at-Arms forlornly shake his head. 

Shortly after the law officers of a certain 
Administration had knelt before the Queen 
and risen up knights, they received from 
Garter King a bill of fees amounting to a 
considerable sum. This they agreed in 
positively declining to pay. Garter King 
persisting, the Attorney - General politely 
offered to call upon him and discuss the 
matter. As nothing else seemed forthcoming, 
this proposal was accepted, and a very inte- 
resting conversation fol- 

tl You charge me all 
this," said the Attorney- 
General, in his most 
convincing manner, 
waving the long bill of 
particulars, u and t if 
you'll excuse me saying 
so, I don't see where 
you come in at all At 
Her Majesty's com- 
mand, I went down to 
Windsor. I did not have 
the pleasure of seeing 
you, or of being com- 
forted by the sight of 
your tabard. As for 
myself, I was dressed 
in ordinary morning 
attire ; was conducted 
to the Queen's presence, 
knelt, received the ac- 
colade, made due obei- 
sance, and withdrew. 
Whereupon, you appear on the scene, and 
attempt to charge me for all kinds of things." 
In the end Garter King-at-Arnis, descending 
from his high estate, made a compromise, 
accepting from these two law officers a sum 
smaller than had ever in similar circumstances 
been entered in his august account-books. 
It is probable the precedent was not estab- 
lished in the case of successors to the law 
offices. But it might be worth inquiring 
into by the next new-comers* 

There is a general opinion arising 
out of the disappearance of the 
Minister from the Treasury Bench 
that the office of Judge Advocate- 
General has been abolished. That is not 
the case, though at the present time, and, in 
fact, since Lord Salisbury's Government went 





out in 1892, the duties of the post have been 
gallantly superadded by Sir Francis Jeune 
to those that already overload him in his 
Presidency of the Probate, Divorce, and 
Admiralty Courts. The reason why ancient 
practice was departed from, and no Judge 
Advocate-General appointed in succession 
to Sir William Marriott, was explained by 
Sir Henry Campbell-Bannerman in reply to 
a question arising in Committee of Supply 
in the Session of iSg2, 

Formerly there was a salary of ^£2,000 a 
year attached to the post of Judge Advocate- 
General. During the incumbency of Sir 
William Marriott, a re-arrangement of terms 
was effected It was settled 
that the Minister should receive 
a salary of ^500 a year certain, 
and that an additional ^500 
a year should be allocated by 
the Treasury to meet the learned 
gentleman's fees charged for 
specific services. 

In the year 1892, as the new 
Minister of War reminded the 
House, a dissolution was im- 
minent No one knew from 
day to day, or from week to 
week, how long Parliament 
would last, still less what would happen to 
Lord Salisbury's Government at the poll. 
Ignoring this notorious state of things (so 
Mr. Ciimpbell-Bannerman put it), Sir William 
Marriott having on the 1st of April, being the 
first day of the financial year, drawn his 
salary of ^500, set himself with rare industry 
to deal with cases pertaining to his office. 
The consequence was that, before the year 
had progressed beyond the threshold of 
July, this zealous public servant had run up 
charges which absorbed the w T hole of the 
^500 allotted for fees over a period 
stretching to the 31st of March in the follow- 
ing year. 

The consequence was that there was 
not a penny in the Treasury to bless a new 
Jmlye Advocate-General frith, and none was 

How thfngs get along with no Minister 
specially devoting himself to the duties of the 
post is one of those mysteries that remain 
unexplained. That in former times the 
Judge Advocate-General was a position held 
in high repute appears from the circumstance 
that the salary exceeded that of Under- 
Secretaries. Moreover, the Judge Advocate- 
General has from time immemorial enjoyed 



(Judge Advocate-General.) 

by Google 

the privilege of demanding an audience from 
the Queen whenever he has business to bring 
under Her Majesty's notice. This rare 
privilege still pertains to the office 

There is nothing new under the 
sun, not even Mr William 
O'Brien's experience in prison 
in old Coercion days. How 
there was rape of his breeches, how he 
declined the substitute proffered, how he lay 
In bed through the livelong day under a 
coverlet , are matters of history. 

Wandering through one of the quaint 
old churches one unexpectedly comes 
upon in the bustling streets of London, 
quiet thu m b - prints 
of Time, I heard of quite 
another breechless person. 
The church is that of St. Alban, 
in Wood Street, one of the 
many Wren built after the 
Great Fire of London, It 
replaced an earlier and, it is 
to be hoped, a much more 
beautiful edifice by Inigo 
Jones. There is still record 
of a monument in the old 
church which bore the follow- 
ing inscription : — 

Hie j&ctt Tom Short -hose 

Sine torn be, sin* sheets, situ riches ; 

Qui vixit sim gownc, 

Situ cloake, mm shirt, situ breeches. 

Shortly before the death of Mr. 
"my name R. I* Stevenson in far-off 
macgregor." Samoa, a member of the House 
of Commons, erudite in Scottish 
lore, received a letter from the novelist stating 
his belief that, though his family had long 
been known as Stevenson, he believed they 
were really Macgregors. He begged the M.P, 
to see what he could do either to confirm or 
dispel the impression. 

As everyone knows, in the good old days 
in Scotland the Macgregors, being beaten in 
many a fight, were nominally, if not literally, 
erased. Those that were not killed in battle 
or slain in captivity were ordered to abandon 
their clan-name. Thus the remnant of the 
ill-fated clan adopted various names as fancy 
or accident suggested. 

Stevenson long brooded over the idea that 
though his foot was no longer on his native 
heath his name was Macgregor. Sir Herbert 
Maxwell's pursuit of the task to which he 
was invited was interrupted by news that the 
novelist was dead and his name no matter. 

Original from 

Heroes of the Albert Medal. 

Bv L S. Lewis. 


OST extraordinary are the de- 
tails of the gallant action for 
which an Albert Medal of the 
First Class was conferred on 
Mr Thomas Averett Whistler, 
first mate of the ship Enner- 
dale, of Liverpool, 

Early in the morning of the 17th of 
December f 1SS5, when the Enmrdak was 
rounding Cape Horn, an apprentice, named 
Duncan McCallum, was sent aloft to loose 
the sky - sail. The 
Ennerdak^ I should 
mention, was one of 
Messrs. J, I), New- 
ton's " Dale ? * line of 

Presently, as the 
captain was descend- 
ing from the poop, 
he saw a heavy body 
strike the main rig- 
ging a little above 
the bulwark, and 
rebound into the sea. 
That " heavy body J1 
was McCallum, and 
the ship being almost 
under full sail at the 
time, he was carried 
rapidly astern. 

Immediately after 
t h i s tra gi c occurre nee, 
H* S, Pochin-, an able 
sea man , leaped over- 
board after the ap- 
prentice, but the 
latter sank before 
Pochin could reach 
him, All things con- 
sidered, the rescuer's 
position was now 
pretty serious, and 
fearing lest he should 
be seized with cramp before a boat could 
come to his assistance, he hailed the ship, 
asking for a lifebuoy to be thrown to him ; 
at the same moment the master, Captain 
Gunson, called all hands to man a boat. 
The first mate, Mr, Whistler, who had been 
asleep in his berth, ran on deck and heard 
Fochin's hail Calling to the boatswain to 
heave him a lifebuoy, he at once sprang over- 
board, secured the lifebuoy which was thrown 
to him, and succeeded in reaching Pochin. 

Vol xiL-6. 

From 4 Phiita. by /> l rechricJrJ 1 4 Vflin York. 

This poor man was already on the point of 
sinking, but with the help of the lifebuoy 
Whistler was able to keep him up. 

Meanwhile, considerable delay had occurred 
in the dispatch of the boat — for one thing, 
her lashings had been secured very firmly for 
the passage round Cape Horn, and when she 
was launched, so many men crowded into her 
that she capsized ; which says much for the 
popularity of Whistler. The boat was soon 
righted, however, and dispatched in charge 

of the third mate and 
two seamen* All this 
time the two men in 
the water were rapidly 
becoming exhausted ; 
and they had made 
up their minds to 
abandon the lifebuoy 
and strike out side by 
side for the ship, 
when they were con- 
fronted by a new, 
weird danger- 

An immense alba- 
tross swept down 
majestically on 
Pochin and Whistler,, 
and, after hovering 
round quite close to 
their heads, alighted 
on the water just be- 
yond arm's length. 
There the great bird 
remained, staring 
them in the face, and 
evidently only waiting 
until they had be- 
come a little more 
exhausted. In a few 
minutes, however, the 
boat reached the 
spot, and its crew 
drew their perishing 
shipmates out of the water. Directly , they 
were lifted into the boat, both men 
became insensible, and Whistler was deli- 
rious for some time afterwards. Amazing 
as it may seem, the two men had remained 
in the piercingly cold water for upwards of 
forty minutes. The expectant albatross was 
greatly disappointed at the turn events had 
takenj and had to be driven off with a boat- 
hook, It was a remarkable fact that the 
attack of this* bird contributed not a little to 




the saving of the ifres of both Whistler and 
Pochin. This was because their vigorous 
efforts to beat off the savage bird materially 
helped to keep their blood in circulation, 
thereby averting the fatal cramp* 

But, you will ask, how about the unfor- 
tunate McCa^um?. He was seen no more ? 
having probably been killed by striking the 
sheer pole in his terrible falk The thick 
iron bar in the rigging was 
afterwards found to be bent 
into a semi-circle by the 
force of the collision with 
the poor apprentice's body. 
It is gratifying to learn that 
Pochin, too, received the 
Albert Medal 

The next photograph re- 
produced is that of Mr. 
William H in ton, a much- 
respected officer of Her 
Majesty's Inland Revenue, 
formerly stationed at Hales- 
owen, but now living at 
I Lancaster. On the 13 th 
of January, 188 1, a fire 
broke out on the premises 
of Mr, John Booth, an iron- 
monger, of Halesowen. Of 
course, a crowd three or 
four hundred strong l 'jLw«j>j 

Mrtr W J 1.1. [AM HISTUK. 

gathered in the street in front of the shop, 
feeling sure of a first-rate spectacle, by reason 
of the large quantity of oil that was stored in 
the basement. 

Presently a rumour passed round that 
there was quite a lot of gunpowder in the 
place j whereupon Mr. Hinton, after ascer- 
taining its whereabouts from Mr. Booth, 
informed the superintendent of police of the 
presence of the gunpowder 
This official remarked that 
it was quite impossible for 
any human being to enter 
the shop until the fire was 
got under. Not being satis- 
fied with this assurance, Mr. 
Hinton at once entered the 
blazing oil warehouse, 
amidst dense volumes of 
black smoke, and in a few 
minutes reappeared with a 
large drawer containing 
several lib. canisters of gun- 
powder. This interesting 
find he at once took to Mr. 
Booth, who was observing 
things from the street. Our 
hero was then further in- 
formed by the storekeeper 
iknia large quantity of Mist- 
^^mmtftltiMfajffi remained. 



At this time the fire was blazing 
with tremendous fury, and Mr. 
H in ton was earnestly persuaded — 
nay* almost compelled— to abandon 
his mad intention of making another 
trip into the warehouse. Every 
moment a frightful explosion was 
expected which would bring down 
the whole block of three houses, 
and work terrible havoc among the 
crowd, who would not be dispersed 
until they had seen the last of the 

Once more Mr. Hi n ton dashed 
into the raging furnace, and after 
some time returned with 251b, of 
blasting powder contained in a big 
tin canister, the outside of which 
was quite hot and blistered by the 
flames, which were then in actual 
contact with it. By this time the 
heat was so intense as to melt the 
solder on a number of articles 
which were a greater distance from 
the fire than the canister of powder 
There cannot be the least doubt 
that in a few seconds the whole 
251b. of blasting powder would have 
exploded. As it was, the tin enve- 
lope burned Mr. H niton's hands, 

Nothing can give one a better 
idea of the high standard of the 
Albert Medal than the fact that 
only a Second Class was conferred 
upon Mr, William J. Bridges, 
quartermaster of Her Majesty's 
ship Thunderer* This man was 
at his station in the shell - room when a 
frightful explosion took place which shook 
the warship as though she had been 
rammed After the explosion occurred, the 
shell-room, was immediately filled with smoke, 
and many burning fragments of clothing, 
were blown down into it. The 
filled with smoke and 
reported to be on fire. The scene must 
have been terrible. All lights were put out T 
and the cries of the wounded were distract- 
ing. The prevailing impression was that one 
of the filled common shells had exploded, 
nnd all the men stationed in the room made 
their escape as speedily as possible -with the 
single exception of Bridges, who, taking off 
his woollen comforter, wrapped it round the 
burning .fragments and brought them up on 
the flats* The heroic man afterwards went 
down again to make further search for any 
smouldering material that might have found 
its way among the projectiles. The medal 


etc., were blown 
magazine was also 


was presented to the gallant quartermaster on 
the China Station, 

The Mayor of Gateshead presented a 
Second Class Albert Medal to Edward 
Scullion, at the Gateshead Town Hall^ on the 
23rd October, 1SS6. Scullion's portrait is 
reproduced here, and for it we are indebted 
to the Town Clerk of Gateshead. This is a 
very peculiar case. On the 9th of August, 
i886 f a boy named Lennon, and two other 
boys, were playing near the air-shaft of an 
unused sulphuretted hydrogen sewer con- 
nected with the chemical works of the 
Newcastle and Gateshead Chemical Company. 
Suddenly Lennon was overcome by the 

moments later fell into 
Heedless of the deadly 

vapour, and a few 

the " sump " below. 

danger, several workmen endeavoured 

to save the boy, who was, however, 

suffocated. In attempting to rescue him, 

two men, respectively named Quinn and 

Swinburn^prkfliO^llast their lives. This 





tragedy was enacted in a very few minutes* 
Scullion then came upon the scene, and after 
having cover eti his mouth with a muzzle, 
such as is worn by workers among chemicals, 
he descended the shaft and succeeded in 
getting a rope round the dead man Quinn, 
whose body was then drawn to the surface. 
Although almost stupefied from the fumes, 
Scullion descended a second time into the 
deadly vapours and brought up the body of 
the boy. 

The unfortunate rescuers, Quinn and 
Swinburne, as also Scullion, were artisans in 
the Chemical Works, and, therefore, well 
aware of the frightful risks they ran from 
the poisonous gases. As a matter of fact, 
the action of Scullion was one of deliberate 
self -sacrificing intrepidity, inasmuch as, 
fully aware of the danger, he took every 
possible precaution, and this with the 
knowledge that several other workmen flatly 
refused to attempt the rescue. 

Mr. Scullion has on three previous occa- 
sions saved life from drowning. On one 
occasion he jumped in after a lad who had 
fallen between the quay-wall and a tier of 
vessels lying alongside, and finding he could 
not make headway against the current in 
such a confined space, he grasped the drown- 
ing lad and dived underneath the vessel to 
the open water on the other side. 

The next recipient of an Albert Medal, 

whose photograph is shown here, is Captain 
Pulteney Malcolm, of the 4th Goorkhas." 
This case is quite unique, and the details are 
as follows: On the 10th of June, 1887, 
Lieutenant Trevor, of the West Yorkshire 
Regiment, was returning to Dalhousie in the 
Himalayas from the Khajiar meeting, in 
company with a brother officer, Lieutenant 
Towsy. At that part of the road known as 
the "Woodsheds," Trevor took a fresh 
pony — one that had a habit of jumping and 
sidling along the road, Of course, it was only 
a " road " by courtesy, being in reality nothing 
more than a narrow ledge, with the sheer face 
of the mountains on one side and a truly 
appalling precipice on the other. At this 
point it may, perhaps, be advisable to let 
Lieutenant Trevor's companion take up the 
story :— . 

*' It's a funny thing, but poor Trevor's 
pony chose the vilest part of the road for his 
hunt icok performance. The little beast 
commenced sidling, got his hind legs over, 
and in an instant pony and rider were falling 
down a sheer dip of about 70ft. The whole 
of the precipice cuts down between 400ft. 
and 500ft,, but the first part is the worst. 

'* 1 was leading my own pony about five 
yards in front of Trevor, when I looked 
round and saw this shocking accident happen. 
I then shouted for help, and started back 
along the road to the * Woodsheds ' to get 
assistance. About seventy yards back I met 
Malcolm riding. He dismounted, and we 
went back to the place together. I showed 


Prom a Phuto. b» William Clarity Sou 





him the spot, and said that we must get down 

somehow, though I thought that particular 

place impracticable. Malcolm remarked that 

it was impossible for me to go down, but that 

he would try it, as he was an experienced 

climber* I took his boots off for him, and 

then hurried back myself to the ' Woodsheds, 1 

where I knew there were several people 

assembled, and also some of our own fellows. 

Presently we all returned to the place 

together, and found that Malcolm had got 

about half-way down the face of the precipice, 

travelling very slowly. He eventually got to 

where poor Trevor lay about twenty minutes 

from the time he started, Malcolm found 

the unfortunate officer lying on his right side, 

face downwards, and just moving his head 

up and down. He turned him over and 

supported his head Soon after 

this some whisky and a rope 

were let down t and Malcolm 

gave the injured man two mouth- 

fuls of the spirit. Lieutenant 

Trevor immediately raised his 

arm and head slightly, and then 

sank back. He must have died 

then, as he never moved again. 

By this time three coolies had 

joined Malcolm, who, with their 

assistance, tied Trevor's body 

across two beams, which had 

probably fallen from above, and 

then conveyed it 200ft lower 

down, Malcolm was there 

joined, first by Dr. Cunningham 

and afterwards by myself. A 

few minutes later we took the 

body up to the road above, I 

should think that Trevor was 

found at least 300ft. down the 

precipice. The poor pony was 

literally torn to pieces. I will 

spare you the description ; but 

all the animaPs legs were off, 

ajid his neck was broken in 

several places* 

" There cannot be the least 
doubt that Malcolm went down 
that terrible precipice at the risk 
of his own life, and when I 
looked at the place afterwards 
from below, it seemed miraculous 
how he managed to get down 
alive at all. His feet were terribly 
cut about, and it must have been 
a most painful as well as dan- 
gerous climb for him," 

which a humble individual named John Smith 
received the Second Class Albert Medal. This 
particular John Smith was a labourer in the 
Siemens department of Messrs.' Thomas Firth 
and Sons, of Sheffield. About eight o'clock 
on Saturday night, May iSth, 1889, as the 
workmen were about to remove from the 
casting-pit a red-hot steel ingot, weighing 
twenty-six tons> an awful accident happened* 
'One of the men, Benjamin Stanley, was 
adjusting the chain when his foot slipped* 
and he fell down into the pit, a distance of 
15ft., quite close to the great column of red- 
hot st eel The wretched man lay stunned 
by the fall, and was already ablaze when 
Smith, realizing the terrible position of 
his comrade, seized a ladder and, thrusting 
it into an adjoining pit, hurried down 

One of the most extraordinary 

rescues conceivable was that 


,ohn smith Quaaiiaaliflftm 



with hardly any clothing 
on. So great was his hurry, 
in fact, that he encountered 
an awkward fall through 
theladder suddenlyturning 
round. Recovering him- 
self in an instant, Smith 
rushed to the rescue, and 
stepping into the inner pit 
speedily picked up his mate 
and succeeded in carrying 
him into the next pit, 
whence he was able by the 
assistance of other work- 
men to get him up the 

Now, I should explain 
that the inner pit into 
which Smith boldly dashed 
was the place which im- 
mediately surrounded the 
bottom of the great steel ingot— a depth 
down of 3ft. and a width from the wall to 
the ingot of only aft 31a Poor Smith was 
horribly burnt, and was carried in a dazed 
state to the infirmary. His life was, how- 
ever, preserved, but Stanley died three days 
after the accident. 

Subsequently a purse was presented to this 
hero, containing contributions from every 
department in the works ; this amounted to 
£20 17s, gd,, and to this the firm added a 
cheque for ^25, 

In order to make the extraordinary daring 
involved in this rescue 
still more obvious, I 
would point out that the 
man Stanley was dragged* 
from a space &SS than a 
yard widc^ having on one 
side a wall, and on the 
other a mighty mass of 
white-hot steel. 

On September nth, 
1878, a truly terrific ex- 
plosion of fire - damp 
occurred in the Abercarn 
Colliery, Monmouth, 
whereby 260 persons 
perished. On this occa- 
sion the greatest possible 
gallantry was shown in 
saving about ninety lives, 
and consequently there 
were two recommenda- 
tions for the " First 
Class " and seven for the 
u Second Class" Albert 
Medal Photographs of 


From a Ph&ta. fry J. Shirvinfflun it Stm. 

JUR. JfJHN II ■; -i -. 

From a Pkvto, bv J* SMrvinghm 

the il First Class" men are 
here reproduced. 

The force of the ex- 
plosion did great damage 
to the roadway and to the 
bottom of the shaft, setting 
the timber on fire in several 
places. Notwithstanding 
the terrible suspense, the 
blazing shaft, clouds of 
dust, and the imminent 
risk of another explosion, 
these men descended with- 
out hesitation, and they 
remained long at their 
heroic and humane work 
of rescue, not reascending 
the shaft until they had 
sati sfied the m selves that no 
one was left alive below. 
The first portrait is that 
of Henry Da vies, who, after having been 
down the Abercarn pit all the afternoon 
in company with those recommended for 
the " Second Class " Medal, actually volun- 
teered to descend the Cwmcarn pit, a shaft 
two miles distant. This further mission 
was undertaken with the object of con- 
veying to the other explorers, who had 
attempted to enter the workings from the 
other side, an order to come out, because the 
subterranean fires were still burning fiercely, 
and a large quantity of gas pouring out of 
the workings rendered a second explosion 
imminent. Had this 
potential calamity hap- 
pened, it would assuredly 
have resulted in the 
destruction of every man 
below ground. Davies, 
after having been deserted 
by two men who refused 
to accompany him fur- 
ther, pursued his course 
alone in the pit for 
500yds. or 600yds,, 
though he must have felt 
that there was little or 
no chance of his coming 
out alive again, 

John Harris, the other 
11 First Class !l man in 
this case, went down the 
pit with those recom- 
mended for the "Second 
Class " Medal Having 
descended to a depth 
of about 800ft., the pro- 



arrested by the damaged state of the shaft ; 
whereupon Harris got off the cage and, sliding 
down the guide-rope, reached the bottom. 
Here he remained ninny hours, knowing full 
well that any moment might be his last ? until 
all who were alive had reached the cage by his 
assistance, and were taken to the surface in 
safety. Many of these, by the way, were 
badly burnt and otherwise injured, and 
must certainly have perished had it not 
been for Harris's heroic exertions. On 
this particular occasion the Earl of 
Beaconsfield recommended Her Majesty to 
grant the medals, Such was the magnitude 
of the Abercarn disaster, that the relief fund 
produced ^£6 1,300. 

Yet another mining disaster, but of a very 
different sort, resulted in 
the reception of the Albert 
Medal by William Dodd, 
under- manager of the 
Diglake Collieries, in 

On Monday, 14th Janu- 
ary, 1S95, this colliery 
was flooded with water 
from the old workings of 
an adjoining mine. The 
water burst in like a 
citaract with great sud- 
denness and violence, and 
with a sound like thunder. 
At the time about 240 
men were at work in 
various parts of the pit 
Much as I should like to 
give the full details of the 
extraordinary heroism 
manifested in this case, 
exigencies of space com- 
pel me to summarize the 

Mr, Dodd was, at the time of the disaster, 
in the office at the bottom of No. 2 shaft. 
The first thing he did was to point out to 
many of the miners the nearest way to a 
place of safety. Here I should mention that 
Mr, Dodd J s very perfect knowledge of the 
topography of the mine proved of incalcul- 
able value. He next went up the main dip, 
down which the water was sweeping in 
tremendous volume and with terrific force. 
On his way Mr. Dodd had to creep through 
an air-crossing about 2ft, wide, and having 
passed through this, he heard several boys 
screaming. Looking up, he saw four lads 
about 6yds. away, who had given themselves 
up for lost. There was a deep pool lying 
between him and them, so he shouted to the 

.VLTt, WILLIAM LX>ttl>. 

From a Phata. lip FL J. Gfau$r «fr (£*„ lianUv- 

boys to plunge in, and he would catch them 
as they were carried past by the rapid 
current. The first one he seized by the hair 
as he floated by, and the others he also 
caught and landed safe. The awful nature 
of the situation may be grasped on learning 
that at this time the water was within I2J#. 
of the r&qf in that part of the mine. 

After having directed the boys to a place 
of safety, Mr. Dodd was himself in consider- 
able danger, being up to his armpits in water. 
To prevent himself being carried down by 
the force of the current, he assisted himself 
along by the signal -bell w T ires, which were 
fastened to the side of the dip by means of 
staples. After he had gone a short distance 
one of these staples came out, and Dodd lost 
his hold of the wire. He 
was instantly swept off his 
feet and washed down the 
dip. After he had been 
carried some twenty or 
thirty yards he grasped at 
a piece of timber and 
saved himself, but was 
confronted by a new and 
even more formidable 
danger. Immense balks 
of timber that had been 
loosened by the rush of 
the water were carried 
down by the current like 
battering-rams, and poor 
Dodd had no light where- 
by he could see to avoid 
them. However, the 
heroic under - manager 
struggled from one part 
of the workings to another 
with marvellous gallantry, 
directing and saving men 
at every turn. At last, 
he himself was engaged in a fierce struggle 
for life, trying to ascend a ladder in the face 
of a current of water that raced down like 
a mill - stream. When he did reach the 
surface, he fell unconscious into the arms of 
one of the men, but soon recovered and 
actually asked for more volunteers ; then, 
accompanied by two miners, named Bolton 
and Carter, he descended once more. For 
more than six hours Ml Dodd had been 
battling against icy-cold torrents, with the 
result that his splendid bravery saved more 
than thirty miners. 

The accompanying photograph is that of 
Captain \V„ J, Nutman, late master of the 
steamship Aidar, of Liverpool (1,583 'tons), 

who ffl#t(gfr^Mfem« of the " First 

4 o 


Class" Medal. The details of this most interest- 
ing case were forwarded to the Queen during 
Her Majesty's recent trip to the Riviera. 

At 2 a,m, on the 19th of January last, 
while the steamship Staffordshire^ of Liver- 
pool, was on a voyage from Marseilles to 
Port Said, signals of distress were observed 
from the Aidar, and the Staffordshire im- 
mediately went to her assistance. 

The Aidar, it appeared, was on her way 
from Odessa to Marseilles, and the wreck 
occurred in the Mediterranean, near Messina, 

As the Aidar was found to be sinking fast, 
three of the Staffordshire's lifeboats were at 
once launched. But their crews experienced 
immense difficulty in the work of saving life 
owing to the darkness and 
the heavv sea* Three 


times was the Staffordshire 
manoeuvred round to wind- 
ward, and each time the 
life-boat was dispatched the 
rescuing crew were in 
serious peril of their own 
lives. D u r i ng on e vis i t , t h e 
boat was badly injured by 
one of the Aidar 1 s davits, 
which was just above the 
water. At 6.10 a.m. the 
only persons left on the 
wreck were Captain Nut- 
rnan and an injured and 
helpless fireman, whom he 
was endeavouring to save, 
and whom he absolutely 
refused to abandon, The 
steamer was now rapidly 
settling down, and as it 
was no longer safe to remain near her, 
the officer in charge of the rescuing party 
from the Staffordshire asked Nutman for 
a final answer — would he leave his help- 
less charge and save himself? He would 
not; he persisted in remaining with the 
injured man, choosing almost certain death 
rather than leave him to his fate. Even 
the passengers tried hard to induce the 
captain to come away, but he would not. 
The fireman seemed powerless and paralyzed 
with fear, making no effort to save himself 
beyond clinging to the broken bridge, then 
down in the water, as the vessel was 
on her beam ends. As the Staffordshire's 
life-boat returned each time, Captain Nutman 
would say : *' Pull away with those people 
and come back for me afterwards," It is 
necessary to explain that the boat could not 


J • ■ ■■' a i'li..: >j 1 ;ii: , \. 


come quite close to the sinking ship, simply 
because no one knew the moment when the 
latter might founder and suck down with her 
anything that chanced to be floating in the 
vicinity ; moreover, there was a terrific sea, 

At last, after -having given Captain Nutman 
many chances of life, the men in the rescuing 
boats were obliged to pull away reluctantly, 
and immediately afterwards, at 6,17 a.m,, the 
Aidar gave one or two heavy lurches and then 
foundered. Long after this the Staffordshire's 
life-boat returned to the spot, its crew perhaps 
animated by vague hopes, and the officer 
commanding it was amazed to behold Captain 
Nutman clinging to the bottom of an up- 
turned boat, still grasping the now unconscious 
fireman. Another half- 
hour elapsed before the 
boat could approach, but 
eventually this hero and 
his precious charge were 
picked up and taken on 
board the Staffordshire. 

In all twenty- four per- 
sons were saved, one only, 
a boy, being drowned* 
This was the cabin boy, 
who was washed over- 
board during the night and 
not seen after 12.30 a.m. 

Colonel Sir Vivian D. 
Majendie, the well-known 
explosives expert at the 
Home Office, interested 
himself very much in this 
case, and obtained a num- 
ber of facts about it. He 
had a conversation with 
Captain Nutman himself, who came from 
Port Said in the same ship with him. Sir 
Vivian gathered that the fireman was much 
too injured to make any effort to save him- 
self, and if left by Captain Nutman he must 
have inevitably perished. 

Another incident. There was a German 
passenger on board the Aidar who was so 
paralyzed with horror at the aspect of things 
that he could not be persuaded to jump from 
the ship into one of the rescuing boats ; and 
he, too, must have been lost had not Captain 
Nutman, with great determination, taken him 
up and dropped him into the water. He 
was then obliged to struggle to one of the 
boats, but as he had a life-buoy on, and a 
boat was not far away, this cost him very little 
trouble. Captain Nutman likewise received 
a silver medal from the Committee of Lloyd's. 

Original from 


The Throne of the Thousand Terrors. 

By William Le Queux. 

Author of " Zoraida" "Stolen Souls,' 1 " The Temptress" etc. 

AR south, beyond the Atlas 
Mountains, beyond that great, 
limitless plain where nothing 
meets the aching eye but a 
dreary waste of red - brown, 
drifting sand, one experiences 
some curious phases of a life comparatively 
unknown* and little understood in European 
civilization. In the Great Sahara, life to-day 
is the same as it was ten centuries ago — the 
same as it will ever be; free and charming 
in its simplicity, yet with many terrors ever 
present, and sun-bleached bones ever re- 
minding the lonely traveller that a pricked 
water-skin or a lame camel means the end of 
all things. 

On a recent journey from Biskra to Mour- 
zouk, in Fezzan, 
I foolishly dis- 
regarded the in- 
junctions of my 
old friend Emile 
Chandioux t the 
commandant of 
the outpost of 
Spahis stationed 
in the Arab town 
of In Salah, in 
[he Touat Oasis, 
and was ren- 

dered extremely 
by the astound- 
ing discovery 
that the camel 
caravan I had 

joined in Zaouia Timassanin, and with 
which I had been travelling for twenty 
days, belonged to the Kel-Izhaban, a tribe 
of marauders and outlaws whose depreda- 
tions and relentless butchery of their weaker 
neighbours caused them to be held in awe 
from Morocco across to Tripoli, and from 
Biskra to Lake Ts&d. In addition, I ascer- 
tained that our Sheikh, known to me as Sidi 

S ' Copyright, iB^brfWle^uei 

El-Ad il, or " The Just," was really none other 
than the dreaded Abdul-Melik, the pirate of 
the desert, against whom the French Govern- 
ment had sent three expeditions, and upon 
whose head a price had been set. 

With bronzed, aquiline features, long grey 
beard, and keen, deep-set eyes ; tall, erect, 
agile, and of commanding presence, he was a 
splendid specimen of the Arab of the plains* 
Though he expressed intense hatred for the 
Infidel, and invoked curses most terrible 
upon the horsemen of the Roumis in general, 
and my friend Captain Chandioux In parti- 
cular, he, nevertheless, treated me with 
haughty courtesy, and extended to me the 
hand of friendship. As, at the head of our 
cavalcade of two hundred armed horsemen 

and along string 

of camels* he 

\ rode day by day 

across the parch- 
ed wilderness, 
interspersed by 
small sand-hills 
and naked 
ledges of rock, 
speckled with 
ethel-bushes half 
overwhelmed by 
sand, he was 
truly an impos- 
ing figure. His 
burnouse was 
of finest white 
wool, embroi- 
dered heavily 
with silk ; the 
haick surround- 
ing his face was 
of spotless china- 
si Ik* and 
around his 



head was 
many yards of brown camel's hair* The 
saddle upon which he sat was of crimson 
velvet, embroidered with gold and set with 
precious stones, and stirrups and spurs of 
massive silver completed the trappings of 
his splendid coal-black horse, which he 
managed with raie perfection and skill. On 
my white Ku-hai-lan stallion, I usually rode 
at his side, chatting to him in his own 

in the United Siate* o? America. 




tongue, while two hundred of his people, 
erect in their saddles, and with their long- 
barrelled rifles slung behind, were ready to 
instantly execute his slightest wish. 

The days were breathless and blazing. 
Scorched by the sun, and half suffocated by 
the sand-laden wind, our way lay through a 
wilderness that Nature had forsaken. At 
night, however, when the outlaws of the 
desert had cast sand upon their feet and 
prayed their maghrib, and we had encamped 
under the palms of the oasis, eaten our dates 
and kouss-kouss, and slaked our thirst from our 
water-skins, then commenced the real luxury of 
the day — the luxury of idleness — as, reclining 
on a mat in front of the Sheikh's tent, with 
coffee and a cigarette, the great Abdul-Melik 
would relate with slow distinctness stories of 
past encounters between his people and the 
hated Christians. While sentries with loaded 
rifles kept a vigilant look-out lest we should 
be surprised by the ever-watchful Spahis or 
Chasseurs, half-a-dozen Arabs would squat in 
a semi-circle before the great Sheikh, 
and, twanging upon their guenibris, those 
queer little banjos fashioned from * tortoise- 
shells over which skin is stretched, would 
chant weirdly, in a strange staccato, Arab 
songs of love and war. At that hour 
a coolness falls over everything, intense 
silence reigns, the sky above grows a deeper 
and deeper blue, and the palms and talha 
trees look mysterious in the half-light. Soon 
the stars shine out like diamond points, and 
it grows darker and darker, until the chill 
night breeze of the desert stirs the feathery 
heads of the date-palms. Then the lawless 
nomads, my companions, would wrap their 
burnouses closely about them, scoop oui a 
hole in the warm sand, and there repose 
until the first flush of dawn. 

About five weeks after I had inadvertently 
thrown in my lot with the Kel-Izhaban, and 
after penetrating a region that, as far as I am 
aware, has never been explored by Europeans 
— for it remains a blank upon the most 
recent map issued by the Depot de la 
Guerre — wfe were one evening, at a spot 
evidently prearranged, joined by a body of 
three hundred horsemen, who armed them- 
selves with the rifles they obtained from our 
camels' packs, and then, leaving the camels 
in charge of half-a-dozen men in a rocky 
valley called the Anzoua, we all continued 
our way in high spirits, jesting, laughing, and 
singing snatches of songs. Throughout that 
night and during the following day we rode 
at the same steady pace, with only brief halts 
that were absolutely necessary. On the 

Digitized by Google 

second night darkness fell swiftly, but the 
moon rose, and under its bright mystic light 
we sped forward, until suddenly the gaunt 
man, in a dirty, ragged burnouse, who acted 
as our guide, shouted, and we pulled up 
quickly. Then, in the moonlight, I could 
just distinguish among the trees of the little 
oasis a few low, white houses, of what I sub- 
sequently learned was the little desert village 
of Tilouat, inhabited by the Kel-Emoghri, 
and distant ten leagues from the town of 

Abdul-Melik shouted an order clear and 
distinct. Whereupon the horsemen spread 
themselves out in two long -lines, and with 
their guns carried across their saddles, the 
first line crept slowly and silently forward. 
By this movement I knew that we were 
about to attack the village, and held my own 
rifle ready for purposes of self-defence. 
Sitting in the second line, I advanced with 
the others, and the breathless moments that 
followed were full of excitement. I had 
become a pirate of the desert, one of a band 
of fierce outlaws, the report of whose terrible 
atrocities had sent a thrill of horror across 
Europe on more than one occasion. 

Suddenly a shot startled us, and at the 
same moment a muttered curse fell from the 
Sheikh's lips as he saw that our presence had 
been detected, for the shot had been fired in 
the village as a sound of warning. Almost 
instantly it was apparent that we had been 
betrayed, for a great body of horsemen 
galloped out to meet us, and in a few 
moments I found myself lying behind my 
horse pouring forth volley after volley from 
my repeating rifle. 

The fusillade was deafening, and for fully 
half an hour it was kept up. About twenty 
of our men had been killed or wounded, 
when suddenly the first line rose with loud 
shouts as if they were one man, and, mount- 
ing, rode straight at their opponents, while 
we followed at headlong speed upon our 
enemies almost ere they had time to 
realize our intention. The mel£e was awful. 
Swords, rifles, and keen, crooked jambiyahs 
were used with terrible effect, but very soon 
all resistance was at an end, and the work of 
looting the village commenced. 

Half demented by excitement and success, 
my companions entered the houses, shot down 
the women with relentless cruelty, tore from 
them what little jewellery they possessed, and 
plundered, wrecked, and burned their homes 
out of sheer delight in destruction. I stood 
watching the terrible scene, shuddering at the 
inhuman brutality of my companions, but 





unable to avert the terrible calamity that had 
fallen so swiftly upon the peaceful little place. 
The fiendishness of the outlaws had T alas ! 
not been exaggerated. Abdul-Melik laughed 
gleefully, uttering some words as he rode past 
roe swift as the wind. But I heeded him 
not; I loathed, despised, and hated him. 

While dawn spread in saffron streaks, the 
work of plunder still proceeded, but when 
the sun shone forth, only the smoke-blackened 
walls of Tilouat remained standing. The 
plunder was quickly packed upon our horses, 
and soon afterwards we rode off, carrying 
with us twenty men and women who had 
been raptured, all of whom, I was informed, 
would eventually find their way into the 
great slave -market, far away at Mourzouk, 

At sundown, five days afterwards, we 
descended into a rocky valley, and suddenly 
came upon a wonderful mas s of scattered 
ruins, of amazing magnitude and extent, 
which Abdul-Melik told me were the remains 
of a forgotten city called Ti ho day en, and as 
we approached I saw by the massive walls of 
hewn stone, the fallen columns half-imbedded 
in the sand, and by an inscription over an 

Digitized by LiQOgIC 

arched door, that they were relics 
of the Roman occupation. When 
we dismounted, I found that the 
ruined city gave shelter to the 
outlaws, and was their habitual 

An hour later, reclining on 
mats under the wall of what had 
once been a great palace, the 
outlaw Sheikh and myself ate 
our evening meal of saubusaj, 
heryseh, and iuzinyek^ and drank 
copiously of dushahi that luscious 
date-syrup that is so acceptable 
after the heat and burden of 
the Saharan day, while my com- 
panions feasted and made merry, 
for it appeared that they kept 
stores of food concealed there. 

On commencing to smoke, 
Abdul-Melik ordered that the 
captives should be brought before 
him, and when, a few minutes 
later, they were ushered into his 
presence, they, with one excep- 
tion, fell upon their knees, grovel- 
led, and cried aloud for mercy. 
The single captive who begged 
no favour was a young, dark- 
haired girl of exquisite beauty, 
with black, piercing eyes, pretty, 
dimpled cheeks, and a com- 
plexion almost as fair as an 
Englishwoman's, She wore a zouave of 
crimson velvet heavily embroidered with 
gold, a heavy golden girdle confined her 
waist, and her wide trousers were of palest 
rose-pink silk, while her tiny feet were thrust 
into velvet slippers of green embroidered 
with gold thread* But her dress had been 
torn in the fierce struggle with her pitiless 
captors, and as she stood, erect and defiant, 
with her hands secured behind her with a 
leathern thong, she cast at us a glance full 
of withering scorn* 

The Sheikh raised his hand to command 
silence, but as her fellow-captives continued 
wailing, he ordered the removal of all but 
this girl, who apparently set him at defiance. 
Turning his keen eyes upon her, he noted 
how extremely handsome she was, and 
while she returned his gaze unflinchingly, 
her beauty held me in fascination. In all my 
journeys in the Land of the Sun I had 
never before seen such an absolutely perfect 

" Who art thou? " demanded the dreaded 
chief, roughly. " What is thy name ? " 
w I am called Khadidja Fathma, daughter 




of Ali Ben Ushshami, cadi of Idelfes," she 
answered, in a firm, defiant tone. 

"Ali Ben Ushshami ! " echoed Abdul- 
Melik, knitting his brows fiercely, "Thou 
art his daughter ; the daughter of the 
accursed son of offal who endeavoured to 
betray me into the hands of the Roumis," he 
cried, exultantly. "1 have kindled the lights 
of knowledge at the flambeau of prophecy, 
and I vowed that I would ere many moons 
seek vengeance." 

" I have anticipated this thy wrath ever 
since thine horde of cowardly ruffians laid 
hands upon me," she answered, with a con- 
temptuous toss of her pretty head, " But 
the daughter of the cadi of Ideles craveth 
not mercy from a servant of Eblis." 

" Dare st thou insult me, wench ? " he 
cried, pale with passion, and starting up as if 
to strike her. 4 * Thou art the child of the 
man who would have given me into the 
hands of the Spahis for the sake of the two 
bags of gold offered for my head* I will 
return his good offices by sending him 
to-morrow a present he will perhaps appre- 
ciate, the present of 
thine own hands. 
He will then be 
convinced that 
knoweth how to 
repay those who 
seek to injure him/ 1 

"Dost thou in- 
tend to strike off 
my hands ? I? she 
gasped, pale as 
death, nevertheless 
making a strenuous 
effort to remain 

"At sunrise the 
vultures will feast 
upon thee, and 
thine hands will be 
on their way to 
Ideles," he answer- 
ed, with a sinister 
smile playing about 
his hard mouth. 

" Malec hath 
already set his 
curse upon thee," 
she said, " and by 
each murder thou 
committest so thou 
createst for thyself 
a fresh torture in 
Al-Hawiyat, where 

thy food will be offal and thou wilt slake thy 
thirst with boiling pitch, True, I have fallen 
captive into thine hands, having journeyed 
to Tilouat to see my father's mother who 
was dying ; but thinkest thou that I fear 
thee ? No/' she added, with flashing eyes. 
" Though the people dread thee as the great 
and powerful Chief, I despise thee and all 
thy miserable parasites, If thou smitest off 
mine hands, it is but the same punishment 
as thou hast meted out to others of my sex. 
Thou art, after ali, a mere coward who 
maketh war upon women," 

"Silence, jade ! " he cried, in a tumult of 
passion, and, turning to the men beside him, 
commanded: "Take her away, secure her 
alone till dawn, and then let her hands be 
struck off and brought to me." 

Roughly the men dragged her away, but 
ere she went she cast at us a look of haughty 
scornfulness, and, shrugging her shoulders, 
treated this terrible mandate with ineffable 

"The jade's hands shall be sent to her 
father, the Cadi, as a souvenir of the interest 

I ^ 







he taketh in my welfare," the Sheikh 
muttered aloud. "'Her tongue will never 
again utter rebuke or insult. Verily, Allah 
hath delivered into my hands a weapon to 
use against mine enemies." 

I uttered eager words of intercessions point- 
ing out the cruelty of taking her young life, 
but he only laughed derisively, and I was 
compelled to sit beside him while the other 
captives were questioned and inspected. 

That night I sought repose in a shed that 
had been erected in a portion of the ruins, 
but found sleep impossible. The defiantly 
beautiful face of the young girl who was to 
die at dawn kept recurring to me with tan- 
talizing vividness, and at length I rose, de- 
termined if possible to save her. Noiselessly 
I crept out, my footsteps muffled by the sand, 
saddled one of Abdul-Melik's own horses^ 
and without attracting the notice of either 
sentry on duty at each end of the encamp- 
ment, I entered the ruin where, confined to 
an iron ring in the masonry by a leathern 
band, she crouched silent and thoughtful. 

ik Fi amani-illah / " I whispered, as I 
approached. " I come to have speech 
with thee, and assist thee to escape*" 

"Who art thou?" 
she inquired, struggling 
tc her feet and peering 
at me in the gloom* 

"A Roumi, who art 
determined that the 
outlaw's command shall 
never be executed/' and 
taking the jambiyak 
from my girdle, I 
severed the 
thongs that con- 
fined her hands 
and ankles, and 
next second she 
was free* 

Briefly I ex- 
plained how I 
had saddled a 
fleet horse and 
placed a saddle- 
bag with food 
upon it, 

" If I get safely 
away I shall owe 
my life to you," 
she said, with in- 
tense gratitude, 
pressing my 
hand for an in- 
stant to her 
quivering lips, 

M I know this place* and ere two moons can 
have risen I can travel through the rocky 
defile and be at my father's house in Idelfes. 
Tell me thy name, so that my father may 
know who was his daughter's liberator. 1 ' 

I told her* and in the same hasty breath 
asked for some souvenir 

"Alas! I have nothing," she answered; 
"nothing but a strange ornament which my 
father's mother gave to me immediately 
before she died, an hour previous to the 
attack being made upon the village," and 
placing her hand deep into the breast of her 
dress she drew forth a rough disc of copper 
about the size of a crown piece with a hole 
in it, as if it had been strung upon a 

" When she gave it to me she told me it 
had been in her possession for years, that it 
was a talisman against terror, and that some 
curious legend was attached to it, the nature 
of which I do not now recollect. There is 
strange writing upon it in some foreign 
tongue of the Roumis that no one has been 
able to decipher." 

1 looked, but unable to detect anything in 
the darkness, I assured her that its possession 


by Google 

1 511 S SI'ED AWj 

Original from 



would always remind me of her, and slipped 
it into the pocket of my gandoura. 

Then together we crept along under the 
shadow of the wall, and, gaining the spot 
where the horse stood in readiness, I held 
her for a second in my embrace while she 
kissed me, uttering a fervent word of thanks, 
and afterwards assisted her into the saddle. 
Then a moment later, with a whispered 
" Allah isekmeck ! " she sped away, with her 
unbound hair flying behind her, and was 
instantly lost in the darkness. 

On realizing that she had gone I was 
seized with regret, but feeling that at least I 
had saved her from a horrible doom, I 
returned to my little shed and, wrapping 
myself in my burnouse, slept soundly until 
the sun had risen high in the heavens. 

Opening my eyes, I at once remembered 
Khadidja's quaint souvenir, and on examin- 
ing it was astonished to find both obverse 
and reverse of the roughly fashioned disc 
covered with an inscription in English 
crudely engraved, or rather scratched, appar- 
ently with the point of a knife. Investigating 
it closely I was enabled, after some diffi- 
culty r to read the following surprising 
words : — 

€i This retard I leave for the person into 
whose hands if may falt f for I am starving. 
Wltosoever reads this let him hasten to 
Zemnou^ in the Zelaf Desert, two days from 
the well of El Ameima, and from the Bab-el- 
Oued pace twenty steps westward outside the 
city wall, and under the second hasti&n let him 
dig. There will he be rewarded, John 
Edward Chatteris^ held captive in the Ka$bah 
of Borku by order if tlie Sultan % Qthm(in. 
Sunday^ June 13, 1843/' 

Chatteris ! Instantly it occurred to me 
that a celebrated English explorer, archaeolo- 
gist, and member of the Royal Geographical 
Society of that name, had years ago been 
lost, and his fate had remained a complete 
mystery. ThU, then, was a message inscribed 
with apparent difficulty within the impregnable 
citadel of the warrior, Sultan of Borku, whose 
little mountain kingdom was situate five hun- 
dred miles south of Mourzouk, between the 
Tibesti Mountains and I^ake Tsad ; a secret 
that for half a century had been in the keep- 
ing of Arabs who could not decipher it. 

What might not be buried at the spot 
indicated by this curious relic of the great 
traveller? My curiosity was excited to the 
utmost Impatient to investigate the truth, 
but compelled, nevertheless, to remain patient 
until such time as I could escape from my 
undesirable companions, I concealed the disc 

by Google 

in my gandoura and rose to join Abdul-Melik 
at his morning meal, 

Khadidja's escape caused the old outlaw 
intense chagrin, and his anger knew no 
bounds, but luckily no suspicion fell upon 
me, and having remained with them during 
two whole moons I succeeded one day, when 
we were near the town of Rhat, in evading 
them and getting away. As quickly as 
possible I returned to In Salah, where I 
exhibited the metal disc with its strange 
inscription to Captain Chandioux, who 
became at once interested in it, an noun ring 
his intention to accompany me next day to 
investigate the truth of the engraved record* 

With an escort of twenty Spahis, all well 
mounted and armed, we rode out of In Salah 
at dawn, and for nine days continued our 
journey across the desert due eastward, first 
taking the caravan route to Tarz Oulli t 
beyond the French boundary, and continuing 
through the rocky region of the Ih^haouen 
and across the Djedid Oasis, until one evening, 
at the maghrib hour, the high white walls and 
three tall minarets of the desert city of 
Zemnou came within view- It was unsafe to 
take the Spahis nearer, therefore we returned 
and bivouacked until darkness set in. Then, 
dressed in the haick and burnouse of the 
Arab of the plain, Chandioux with myself and 
three Spahis, carrying spades concealed be- 
neath our flowing drapery, approached the 
town and crept under the shadow of the walls 
until we reached the Bab-el-Oued, or principal 
gate. Guarded by strong watch-towers on 
either side, the gate was closed, and silently we 
crept, anxious and breathless, on over the 
sand westward until we had counted twenty 
paces and reached the second bastion. 

Then, after glancing eagerly around to re- 
assure ourselves that we were not observed, 
we all five commenced to dig beneath the 
walk Discovery, we knew, would mean 
death. The sand was loose, but full of stones, 
and for some time we worked without result 
Indeed, 1 began to fear that someone had 
already been able to decipher the record and 
obeyed its injunctions, when suddenly the 
spade of one of the Spahis struck something 
hard, and he uttered an ejaculation. With 
one accord we worked with a will, and within 
ten minutes were unearthing an object of 
extraordinary shape, At first it puzzled us 
considerably, but at length, when we had 
cleared the earth sufficiently to remove it, we 
made a cursory otaminntion by the aid of 
wax tapers, and discovered that it was a kind 
of stool with a semicircular seat, supported 
by six short columns of twisted gold 





imitation of serpents, the seat itself being of 
gold inlaid with many precious stones, 
while the feet consisted of six great 
yellow topazes, beautifully cut and highly 
polished, held in the serpen ts' mouths. The 
gold had become dimmed by long contact 
with the earth, but the gems, as we rubbed off 
the dirt that ciung to them, gleamed and 
sparkled in the tapers' fitful rays. kf 

The stool, or throne, was so heavy that it 
was with difficulty two men dragged it out of 
the trench, and breathless with anxiety we all 
lent a willing hand to carry it over the five 
miles of open desert to where the men were 
awaiting us. Our arrival was greeted with 
cheers, but quickly the strange relic was 
wrapped in saddle-bags and secured upon the 
back of a spare horse, and we set out on the 
first stage of our return journey, reaching In 
Salah in safety ten days later, and learning 
with satisfaction on our arrival that Abdul- 

by LiOOgle 

Melik had, during our absence, been killed 
in a skirmish with the Spahis in the Ahaggar, 
Not until I had brought the jewelled seat 
to England and exhibited it before a meeting 
of the Royal Geographical Society was I 
aware of its real antiquarian value. From 
the letters sent home by the intrepid Dr. 
Chatteris, and still preserved in the archives 
of the Society, it appeared that during 
1839 Salman, the great Sheikh of Aujila, 
assembled a formidable following, 
and proclaiming himself Sultan of 
Tunis, led an expedition through the 
country, extorting money from the 
people by reason of horrible tortures 
and fearful barbarities. While sen- 
tencing his unfortunate victims, he 
always used a curiously -shaped judg- 
ment seat, which, for ages, had been 
the property of the Sultans of Sokoto, 
and it thus became known and 
dreaded as the Throne of the Thou- 
sand Terrors, it only being used 
on occasions when he sentenced 
the unfortunate wretches to tor- 
ture for the purpose of extracting 
from them where their wealth 
was concealed. 

Against this fierce rebel the Bey 

of Tunis was compelled to send a 

great expedition, and after several 

sanguinary encounters at Sinaun, 

and in the Um-el-Cheil, he was 

utterly routed and killed in his 

own stronghold at Aujila. Dr, 

Chatteris, in the last letter received 

from him, mentioned that he had 

secured the jewelled throne, but 

that on account of the superstitions of the 

Arabs it was an extremely difficult matter to 

convey it to the coast. 

Fearing lest he should lose it, he had ap- 
parently buried it, and soon afterwards unfortu- 
nately fell into the hands of the Sultan of 
Borku, who held him captive until his death, 
Khadidja is still living in Idelcs, where she 
is happily married to the younger son of the 
Governor, but in the seclusion of her harem 
she is still in ignorance that, by the curious 
little souvenir with which she rewarded her 
Infidel friend, she added to our national 
collection of antiquities a valuable and highly 
interesting relic. Visitors to the British 
Museum will experience but little difficulty 
in finding it, for in the Oriental section at 
the present moment one of the most 
frequently inspected and greatly admired 
treasures is the quaint, historic, and bejewelled 
Throne of the Thousand Terrors. 


The Centenary of Robert Burns. 

Born 25TH January, 1759 — Died 21ST JuCv, 1796. 
By Alexander Cargill. 

~>T long ago there died a good 
old Scots worthy who used to 
say that the saddest calamity 
that could possibly overtake 
him would be the 
loss of his memory, 
would involve his 
sing the songs of 

since it 

inability to 

his beloved Robbie Bums ! And 

who, among Scotsmen, doesn't 
know how deeply Professor 
Black ie loved the great national 
bard, and fondly cherished every- 
thing appertaining to his im- 
mortal memory ? To forget his 
Burns ! Anything in the world 

There is a note of real pathos 
in this story of Bkiekie's love 
for Burns ; and yet, how applic- 
able is it to thousands of the 
countrymen of the poet. For 
Scotland could no more forget 
her Burns than the mother her 
child, and many generations must 
elapse ere she can suffer him^ of 
all her children, to languish and 
die outside her affection and 
beyond her regard. 

I well remember the centenary 
of the birth of Robert Burns in the 
year 1859. 1 was then but a boy, but old enough 
to discern in that famous celebration that 
the name of Burns 
was one of prime 
significance to 
Scotland and the 
Scottish people. 
Already, the thirty- 
seven years or 
thereby that made 
up the quantum of 
the poet's life a 
century ago have 
come and gone in 
our century, and, 
again, in the cen- 
tenary of his deaths 
the opportunity is 
gladly hailed to 
memorize the bard 
and to learn, if 
possible, some- 
thing new from his 
life and its lessons. 

L'KM-rn.K OJ* I'.; i,\s. 

IIUHNS S m-:al. 

To Learn in suffering what they teach in song, 

is, assuredly, as true a line as ever was written 
to epitomize one of the most important 
functions of many of the world's greatest 
singers. Not that suffering is the 
Alpha and Otntga of the poet's 
message — not always the burden 
or vwtrtomt of his song — but it 
is frequently the deepest chord, 
the most eloquent strain in all 
the utterance. If, haply, our 
modern poets are exempt — as a 
class — from this fundamental 
condition of the gift of true and 
abiding poesy, there are many 
whose voices are still paramount 
and surpassing^ though the singers 
themselves are long passed away, 
to whom Shelley's fine line is 
peculiarly applicable. But to no 
poet of any age or clime could 
it be more applicable than to 
Robert Burns ! 

In many respects Burns was an 
ideal son of sorrow. His cup of 
life, if dashed now and again 
with a spice of the cordial of 
genuine human joy and happi- 
ness, was — most of it — of the 
bitterness of wormwood ; and 
from the opening years of 
early manhood to the last day of his all 
too brief existence, his career was full of 

from tht rkiur< *>¥] 



W. O, UiU, &.S.A. 





pathos and sadness and tragedy, I often 
think it was in a vein of grimmest irony that 
he sang of that tL blast of J an war win' " that 
44 blew hansel in on Robin ! Ji Hansel, 
forsooth ! Verily, it was the hansel of an 
untoward destiny that, within the humble, 
iv auld-c/ay iiggitt/ 3 met his spirit as it 
entered upon the scene of this mortal 
life on that tempestuous wintry morn- 
ing in the year 1759, and remained 
with him all through his life. The 
hansel was his country's— not his/ 
For never did Scotland receive a 
nobler gift from the gods than in the 
genius of this son, and of none is 
Scotland more proud, unless it be 
of the great and magnanimous Sir 
Walter j even he, when a boy, felt 
it a never-to beTorgotten honour to 
be noticed with but a nod and a 
word from the sad-faced ploughman 

In a brief magazine article it is, of 
course, impossible to do little more 
than merely touch the fringe, as It 
were, of such a varied theme as that 
suggested by the name of Robert 
Burns, On this the hundredth anni- 
versary of the poet's death, the temp- 
tation to dwell on the more pathetic 
incidents of his career is not easy to 
overcome, so that it may, perhaps, 
be more profitable to the general 
body of the readers of The Strand 
Magazine to be reminded on such 
an occasion of some of those more 
personal features of the poet's life, 

by virtue of which 
— remembering 
its brevity and 
bitterness^ and, 
withal, its mar- 
vellous fruitful- 
ness of glorious 
song— his memory 
is kept ever green 
in the heart of 

In the first 
place, the lot of 
Burns — hi its 
work-a day re- 
spects — was a 
hard lot Toil and 
penury were 
largely the portion 
of the poet. From 
his earliest years 
he had more- 
much more in all conscience — than his share 
of daily toil* and, with only the strength of a 
lad, had many a day to do the work of a 
man. Never did a great poet so hardly 
earn his daily bread by the sweat of 
the brow as did Robert Burns, the boy, 

id. 0. nut* it*. J. 

Frrtm tht Fainting by\ 



[Nn*V}t V th 




the youth, the man ; and 
— what is more — never 
did poet receive, on the 
whole, a more niggardly 
dole of that daily bread, 

It is true the accredited 
portraits of Burns give but 
little, if any, indication of 
the severe manual labour 
he underwent for many 
years, but while the Taylor 
and theNasmyth likenesses 
of the poet, which are re- 
produced in these pages, 
are held to be fairly true 
to the original, the hard- 
nesses or the roughnesses 
of his features, conditions 
induced by that manual 
labour, were no doubt 
toned down or shaded off 
in the desire to depict the 
poet rather than the 
ploughman. There is, per- 
haps, too much beautified 
ideality in the popular por- 
traits of Burns for anyone 
to discern in his features 
aught of the sore bodily 
strain and stress he en- 
dured from his earliest 
years. It is the truth, 
nevertheless, that few men 
had to labour with their hands as did poor 
Burns, and for so little recompense. Even 
Flaxman's statue of 
Burns, which is also 
given here, with its 
grace and beauty of 
design, somehow con- 
veys the impression 
that the poet was more 
an elegant *' man about 
town," dressed accord- 
ing to the fashion of 
the period for some 
Court levee or high 
social function, than a 
wearied plodder after 
the ploughshare ! 

Then, there was the 
penury — the poverty — 
that perpetually dogged 
his steps. The wolf, 
with its horrid snarl, 
was almost constantly 
at his door, and to what 
terrible shifts was poor 
Burns often put to in 


From the Paii%ti*a by topiur. 

by Google 

order to keep the enemy at 
bay ! Nothing is more 
pitiful than the story of the 
poverty of Scotland's 
greatest son ; all the more 
pitiful, since it stands out 
in such sharp contrast to 
the general thriftiness and 
providence of the Scottish 
peasantry, who often take 
as a text for their rule of 
daily life the poet's famous 
lines : — 

No i fur to hiile it in ft hedge, 
Nor for a train -attendant, 

But fur the glorious privilege 
Of being independent, 

Alas, for Burns, the 
privilege of being inde- 
pendent — so far as hard 
cash can secure that happy 
condition — was never 
really his from the time he 
began to toil until the 
" labourer's task was o'er " 
and for ever. Almost the 
last letter he penned was 
one containing an appeal 
to a friend for help J to 
save him from a debtor's 
gaol ! Fine songs and 
noble sentiments about the 
glory of independence are 
well enough in their way, but when the poet 
who sings them has scarce a shilling in the 

. — __ _ XvV/, while the wife is 

weariful and the bairns 
are hungry (and poor 
Jean Armour had, as 
Hums himself knew 
only too well, many a 
hard time of it !), what 
an irony of destiny is 
his in all conscience ! 

With all this — and 
more — to vex bis soul, 
Burns, never thetass, 
still sang on through it 
all, and oftentimes in 
strains of such super- 
lative excellence, and 
with such matchless 
abandon , that it is all 
the more amazing to 
think of the many slings 
and arrows of the out- 
rageous fortune that 
was his. This stern 
schooling has, of course, 

liUKNS, Ijm. 

by TV 

Original fronn 



done much, especially of late years, to 
iecentuate the popular note of sympathy 
with Burns and for his failings. As time 
goes on, I believe it will be more and 
more realized that never did a great poet 
endure, as Robert Burns endured, in as 
brief a span of existence, so much of 
that concentrated bitterness of human life 
which poverty alone can distil, white remain- 
ing true to the better instincts of a surpassing 
genius. Under it all, and in spite of the 
temptations to "kick up the heels" at the 
iron goad of such a lot as was that of Bums 
(temptations which, alas, were often too 
much for him), his genius suffered but little 
eclipse, and from its rising to its setting, 
maintained almost its full measure of power 
to delight and dazzle all that came under its 

If lo Burns himself, however, the work- 
a-day discipline of destiny was unwontedly 
harsh and unkind, his sufferings from " chill 
penury " at its immediate hands have proved 
vastly to the benefit of the country and of the 


Frtym tht Picture by 8. Jfrjfouu, R.H.A. 

jilized by \jOOQIc 


Kram a Fhotor fry McLe**uin A Vo. y Greenock. 

people he loved so well. It is impossible to 
imagine what "puir auld Scotland" mighr 
have been to-day had the destiny of Burns 
been other than it was — ■ 
had he been born, say, 
with the proverbial silver 
spoon, in a fine " castle o 1 
Cassillis," the son and heir 
to some " birkie ca'd a 

But, thanks to that same 
destiny, Burns was born a 
true son of the people, 
and at a time when a great 
democratic poet was sorely 
needed — a voice that 
would not only plead the 
cause of the poor, the op- 
pressed and over-toiled at 
plough or loom, but that 
would also cry aloud 
against the shams and 
hypocrisies of a selfish, 
sordid, and inglorious age. 
And in due time, as the 
singer's sympathy waxed 
fervent, and his voice was 
heard loud and resonant, 
a breath "from freedom's 
coast " fanned the face of 
the common people and 
roused them to the hope 
of a new life and of the 
dawn of a happier era. 
For it is unquestionably 
the fact that more than 
one of the great move- 
■ mantf, .which have done so 




much to improve the lot of the industrial 
classes of Scotland, and made them, in the 
mass, what they are to-day — better housed, 
more enlightened, thriftier, and more inde- 
pendent — in a word, freer 
and happier than ever they 
had been in the past, date 
from the time of Burns ; 
and is it not a significant 
circumstance that the incep- 
tion of the great principle 
of thrift, as embodied in the 
savings banks, was being put 
into actual practice about 
the very time when the poet 
passed away, and not many 
miles from Dumfries, where 
his remains were interred ? 

It is, perhaps, chiefly be- 
cause of the deep and tender 
humanity of Burns which so 
" went out " to the humbler 
and poorer classes of the 
people, and by virtue of 
which he was enabled to 
sing so well and so truly of the common 
events of their simple lives, that his 
memory is so greatly prized by his 
countrymen. Yet, in nothing did the poet 
befriend Scotland so much as in his intense 
love for her name and character, and in his 
enthusiasm for her welfare. No doubt, his 
broad humour and deep pathos, his love of 



From an Original Painting 


Painting by W. £onner + Ju». 

igitized by HiGOgle 

common things and his sympathy with thern, 
his hatred of cant and show and hypocrisy, 
his briiherlimss of feeling and tenderness of 
regard "for friendship's sake," all as diversely 
exhibited in such poems and 
songs as the immortal u Tarn 
o* Shanter," with its Alloway 
Kirk horrors ; " John An- 
derson, My Joe, John"; 
"To a Daisy," "Holy 
Willie's Prayer," " A Man's a 
Man for a 1 That," etc., have, 
no doubt, been of immense 
value to the national life and 
happiness. But it is, per- 
haps, as a patriot, and patriot- 
poet, that Burns deserves 
most gratitude from his 

A truer patriot than Burns 
the Scottish nation never 
had, for his patriotism was of 
the purest, the sanest kind. 
He desired, sang, prayed for 
Scotland in a spirit the most 
devout and fervent, soliciting for her nothing 
more — but nothing less — than the Divine 
favour in all that concerned her life and 
progress. In the " Cotter's Saturday Night " 
— by many considered the noblest poem 
Burns ever wrote — that spirit is finely ex* 
pressed in the following stanza : — 

O Thou ! who poured the patriotic tide 
That streamed through Wallace's undaunted heart, 
Who dared to nobly stem tyrannic pride, 
Or nobly die t the second glorious part 
(The patriot's God, peculiarly thou art 
His friend, inspires guardian, and reward 3), 
O never, never, Scotia's realm desert \ 
But still the patriot, and the patriot hard, 
In bright succession rise, her ornament and guard. 

Then there is the poet's gift of the im- 
mortal " Scots Wha Hae ! 7P No country 
under the sun possesses a national anthem 
like this. How calmly defiant of the foe ! how 
sternly resolute to meet victory or death ! — 
what martial ode is there to compare with 
this " Marseillaise " of Scotland ? To hear 
it sung even "in piping times of peace " by a 
social gathering of the clans is moving and 
inspiring enough, and one can only imagine 
its influence in face of the stern reality of the 
battle ! Long may it be sung only at the 
festive board ! In any event, Scotland is as 
much indebted to her patriot-poet for " Scots 
Wha Hae " as for anything else he ever 
penned. With the story of the shaping into 
its present well-known form of this magni- 
ficent ode, the name of Mr, George Thomson, 
the musical correspondent of Burns, and 





From the Pictun bv D. O. HUU R.& 

whose portrait is shown on page 54, will ever 
be honourably associated. 

Of the many vicissitudes in the brief life 
of Robert Burns, none influenced him — the 
man and the poet— more than his extra- 
ordinary experiences in Edinburgh and at the 
hands of many of the citizens. Was it a 
happy or unhappy destiny that led Burns to 
the capital of Scotland, away from his 
Ayrshire fields, in the autumn of 17S6 ? The 
question is a most suggestive one, and might 
well be considered, especially since the present 
article deals more with the personal side of 
the poet's career than with his writings. 

Looking at 
the central facts 
that shaped that 
career, and re- 
membering the 
potent influence 
which the ex- 
periences of the 
life of a great 
city had upon 
him — a stranger 
and untried to 
its temptations 
— I am f a i n 
sometimes to 
think that, on 
the whole, it was 
an unfortunate 
destiny that 
prompted him 
to quit the 
quiet, peaceful 
rusticity of 

Mossgiel, where 
so much of his 
best work was 
written, and ven- 
ture himself into 
the noisy, soul- 
vexing whirl of 
gay city life. 
True, when he 
arrived in Edin- 
burgh, heralded 
as a new poetic 
star that had 
lately arisen on 
the horizon of 
the time, he, like 
Caesar of old, 
literally H came, 
saw, and con- 
quered" Ere he 
had been many 
days in the city, 
he suddenly found himself " translated from 
the veriest shades of life " into a position 
where he became the cynosure of all eyes. 
Many men, most men> in fact, would have — 
in these days at least — shrunk from the 
ordeal : many, venturing, would have issued 
from it with their vanity's stature stretched a 
cubit's length ! But Burns did not shrink 
nor withdraw himself from the scene, neither 
was he spoiled by the flattering attentions of 
the great people with whom he foregathered. 
Indeed, it has been stated, on the authority 
of Sir Walter Scott, that he " never saw a 
man in company with his superiors in station 




GFrom ifu Picturt by b. O. Hilt, R.&A. 
i it "u> n '" uriginai rrorn 



or information more per- 
fectly free than was Bums 
from either the reality or 
the affectation of embar- 
rassment Burns was much 
caressed in Edinburgh, 
but, alas, the efforts made 
for his relief were exceed- 
ingly trifling, 1 ' What Burns 
himself thought of it all 
is, however, left on record 
in numerous letters to 
his friends and correspon- 
dents, and an excerpt 
from one of the most 
interesting of these, show- 
ing a facsimile of the poet's 
characteristic handwriting, 
is reproduced on this page. 
With all this and more 
to prove the natural 
loftiness of his soul, and allowing for the 
financial urgency of the need of a new edition 
of his poems, the advent of Bums in Edin- 
burgh, especially just after the success of the 
first (Kilmarnock) edition, no doubt helped 
very materially to stop the flow of verse which 
had hitherto come in glorious gushes, warbled 
full and free as he walked behind his plough 



(Musical Correspondent of ihc Poet.) 
From the Painting fyjf Sir H, iiadtam, R.A. 

amid his Ayrshire fields. 
If he formed the acquaint- 
ance, more or less useful 
to him afterwards, of not 
a few of the notabilities of 
"Mine own romantic 
town " ; if, too, he suc- 
ceeded in getting a new 
edition of his poems 
through the Edinburgh 
press (rare honour, indeed, 
for a provincial bard !) and 
in pocketing some ^500 
sterling thereby (since this 
was the main object of the 
poet ? s quest, after, of course, 
the more private and per- 
sonal reasons that inclined 
him cityward), was there 
not also a debtor side of 
the account? 
The poet won his renown — quick, un- 
exampled, universal : he sat him down at 
ease with lords and their ladies ; he danced, 
gayest of cavalierSj with duchesses, and fasci- 
nated them and their daughters as few men 
had done ; he made his book a big success, 
and so, for a brief time, was richer by far 
than ever he had been or hoped to be in all 

i{ WkuA/fc, ffl yj^ yf.i/n^n^. Xw< JaMvx ^ajl wmw 

jlnuV iJ&nf ■ fan* v-^ mf ,/\rfvw ii/a£r J fna+ffi* 1 ^ «■ ^*- 


~^Jtm/ku J^)^'&<adM^U^/^^^df^^ 



' ' d*™* Google 

purns's HAMpwi?rTin0nginal from 





(The Famous Friend and Correspondent of Burns.) 

his life ; and after some flitting hither and 
thither, to and from the scene of these 
splendid triumphs — what do we find ? 

Alas ! we are told on the best of all 
authorities, viz.. Burns himself (his letters 
to Mrs. Dunlop of Dunlop, one of the poet's 
truest friends and admirers, are the best 
comment on this subject), that in due time 
he returned to his Ayrshire home, where 
many responsibilities and duties awaited him 
--soured in spirit, hurt in mind, sad at heart, 
and, in the poetic sense, bearing with him 
the evidences of 

That little rift within the lute 

That hy-and-bye doth make the music mute I 

For certainly— and there is little profit in 
reciting the details— the rare-toned lute of 
Robert Burns was none the better for the 
moral tear and wear the poet underwent in 
Edinburgh. His Edinburgh life may form 
an interesting picture for the mind's eye to 
ponder : on the whole, it is full of pathos and 
is not without its lessons ; and on an occasion 
like this, the brief life of the poet cannot well 
pass before the mind without a suggestion 
of the vanity of all human things being vividly 
impressed upon it, 

Any appreciation of Robert Rurns, no 
matter how brief and inadequate, would, of 
course, be absurdly incomplete without some 
reference to the influence of womankind upon 

y Google 

this marvellously gifted and strangely 
constituted being. What an intensely 
interesting "human document" 
might be made of the subject of the 
poet's relations with the fairer sex ! 
To their influence, no mortal — 
certainly no poet— was more im- 
pressionable than Burns; and all 
his life, at least from the day when, 
a lad of fifteen, he was inspired by 
the charms of " Handsome Nell " 
Kilpatrick to indite his first love- 
song, he lived virtually 

Under the lash cf a lovely eye 
In passiuu— fetter 'd slavery I 

Dante, Tasso, Shakespeare, Goethe, 
Byron, Shelley, and other singers no 
doubt owed much of their inspira- 
tion and utterance to the potent spell 
of feminine loveliness and grace, but 
none of those "mighty minstrels" 
ever outdid Burns in the ardency 
and constancy of his song in praise 
of womankind. Of all those of the 
gentler sex, however, who most in- 
m fluenced his muse and roused it to 
the very ecstasy of poetic rapture 
were (after his own " Bonnie Jean >J ) 
Mary Morrison and Mary Campbell — the 
latter immortalized as no real flesh-and- 
blood heroine of song has ever been since 
Scots minstrelsy began to have a history* 
The song which Burns wrote in memory 

1 9 

mm \ Mm 

^^^^^^^^B ^|r ^^^^B 


(Nephew of Highland Mary.) 
Frew ft J*Aoi!if. fctf McLmtuin if Co., fr'rwucfc 





From a Photograph, 

of the former may not, perhaps, be so well 
known as that written to " Mary in Heaven " ; 
yet Hazlitt— an admirable critic — thought it 
the finest love-song Burns ever penned But 

it is around the name of i£ Highland Mary" 
(as u Highland " as birth at Campbelton can 
make her), with her brief and pathetic history, 
that by far the more interesting associations 
have gathered, and whatever may have been 
the precise nature of the poet's intimacy with 
her, there never can be any doubt of the fact 
that her untoward fate deeply wounded the 
heart of Burns, and provoked from him some 
of the noblest lines in the language. For 
example, the stanza, ending : — 

Time but the impression deeper makes, 
As streams their channels deeper wmr f 

has on many an occasion been quoted as 
unequalled alike for the stateliness of the 
flow of the language and the excellence 
of the simile expressed In connection with 
the name of Highland Mary, many admirers 
of Bums will be interested to know that 
there was living as recently as December 
last, and, in spite of his eighty- three years, in 
fairly good health, a nephew of that famous 
celebrity. It is now well beyond a hundred 
years (the actual date is 17th August, 1786) 
since Mary Campbell met her death at 
Greenock, where she had been attending a 
sick brother, and where — in the West church- 
yard — her remains are interred. In this 
nephew, therefore (whose portrait is shown 
on the previous page), we had a very interest- 
ing link, directly connected with the fair 
heroine for whose memory all lovers of their 
national bard have naught but a tender and 
respectful regard* 


Fr&n the Firturt b§ &. a HiU, B.S.A. 

by Google 

Original from 

The Adventures of a Matt of Science. 

By L. T. Meade and Clifford Halifax, M.D. 

We have taken down these stories from time to time as our friend, Paul Gilchrist, has related them to us. He is a mail 
whose life study has been science in its most interesting furms— he i* also a keen ohserver of human nature and » noted traveMet* 
He has an unbounded sympathy for his kind, and h has beets his lot to be consulted on many occasions hy all sorts and conditions 

of mcti h 

I,— THE SNAKE'S EYE, Told by Paul Gilchrist. 

HAVE met with strange ad- 
ventures in my time, and none 
perhaps queerer than the story 
I am just about to relate. 

The Crossthwaites were old 
friends of mine, and amongst 
them I had no greater favourite than the 
pretty Lady Pamela, She was a mother- 
less girl of great beauty, and when first 
grown up had gone through much trouble 
owing to an unlucky love affair. A certain 
Laurence Carrol), a penniless subaltern in a 
line regiment, had conceived a desperate 
passion for her and she for him, There had 
been exciting scenes for the young people 
had sworn to be true to each other in spite 
of obstacles. Carroll was a gentleman by 
birth, but somewhat harum-scarum and reck- 
less in character. He had already contracted 
debts to a considerable amount, and was, in 

the eyes of her family, no suitable match for 

Lady Pamela. The Earl of Attrill forbade 

him the house— I^dy Pamela broke down 

and had a somewhat severe illness, but in the 

course of a year had recovered her normal 

health and spirits, I had been consulted at 

the time of the Carroll 

trouble, and was, there- 
fore, sincerely rejoiced 

when the news of Lady 

Pamela's e ngagem en t 

to the right man 

reached me. 

She had now to all 

appearance given her 

whole heart to a certain 

Captain Mainwanng, a 

well - known traveller 

and a particularly brave 

officer. He had money 

of his own, and a 

character without a 

flaw. He was twenty 

years older than his 

pretty young bride, 

but that fact mattered 

nothing in the eyes of 

her relations. 

At Lady Pamela's 

earnest request 1 had 

promised that no scien- 
tific work should pre- 

Vcil. in.- 8, 

vent my being present at her wedding. She 
was to be married with much ceremony early 
in February of this present year 1896. The 
wedding was to take place from the Cross- 
thwaites 1 town house in Portland Square, and 
the bridegroom arrived on leave of absence 
from his regiment in India just one week 
before the wedding. He was a tall, fine- 
looking, soldierly man, and Lady Pamela's 
friends congratulated her on all sides. These 
congratulations rose to a sort of furore of 
enthusiasm when it was discovered that, 
amongst other presents, the soldier had 
brought for his future bride's acceptance a 
diamond of extraordinary size and brilliancy. 
The night after Captain Mainwaring's 
return from India, I dined at the Cross^ 
th wastes', and after dinner was permitted to 
see the gem. It reposed on a velvet bed 
under a glass case, and stood on a centre 
table in the room where the other wedding 
presents were displayed. This room was not 
only guarded by a' detective from Scotland 
Yard, but also by a manservant, an old 
retainer of the family, who was supposed 
never to leave it except when the detective 
was present. 

The diamond presented a strange and 
almost startling appearance : it was tut in 
the form of a cobra's eye, with some 
scintillating rays in the centre which not 

by L^OOgle 






inaptly represented the pupil ; it was set in a 
thin gold socket, and looked like an eye of 
evil and strange import as it glittered on its 
purple bed In addition to the vaJue which 
its queer shape and unique appearance gave 
it, the stone itself was of great intrinsic worth, 
as it weighed over thirty carats. One glance 
was sufficient to show me that it was of the 
first water and was free from the least cloud- 
ing or imperfection — in certain lights it gave 
out a blue, in others again a red, colour. 

" You would like to hear the story of that 
queer diamond ? " said Captain Mainwaring, 
coming up to my side when he saw me 
examining the gem, 

M It certainly presents a unique appear- 
ance/' I answered. 4 * It must have a history," 

" It has— it is in reality one of the eyes of 
an Indian idol It was given to me by a 
Rajah whose life I had been instrumental in 
saving. When he presented me with the 
gem he made a queer request 

" 'It belongs to a tribe with whom I and 
my people have had a life-long quarrel,' he 
said. 'It is, as a glance will show you, the 
eye of a cobra — we call it in Hindustani 
Sanp Kee Ankh, which means the Snake's 
Eye. The money value of this stone is 
immense , but I run considerable danger by 
having it in my possession. In fact ? I should 
be glad to be rid of it. If you are willing to 
take the responsibility, you shall have it on a 

4( I told him," said Captain Mainwaring, 
" that I was not a nervous man, and that 
I would gladly accept the responsibility 
of such a valuable possession, 

M ' You saved my 
life, and I owe you 
something,' replied the 
Rr.jah. * The stone 
shall he yours if you 
will take my servant, 
Gopinath, as its guar- 
dian, I do not wish 
to have your blood 
on my head, and you 
would assuredly never 
reach England in 
safety if Gopinath did 
not take care of the 
diamond for you. He 
is a Brahmin, a valua- 
ble and excellent 
fellow. He will serve 
you day and night, and 
will protect the gem. 
Take him with you 
to England. While 

he remains in your service the diamond is 

"As bespoke, the Rajah lifted a curtain 
and Gopinath appeared. He was a good- 
looking fellow, ull, with the sleek skin, 
sinewy frame, and glowing, jewel-like eyes of 
his countrymen- I happened to be in need 
of a servant, and gladly accepted the guardian 
with the gift. Gopinath has accompanied me 
to England* and is so much attached to me 
and to the Snake's Eye, that I do not think 
we are likely to part for many a long day," 

*' You suffered no hair-breadth escapes, 
then, in travelling down the country with a 
gem of such value ? " I ashed, 

11 I believe I did T several — but Gopinath 
was always to the fore* I have not the least 
doubt that my Brahmin stood between me 
and death on several occasions." 

Other guests now crowded round the ^lass 
case, and Mainwaring entered into a fresh 
description of the gem, the Rajah, and 
Gopinath for their benefit. I only listened 
with half an ear, being absorbed in con- 
templation of the splendid stone itself 

" How do you like the idea of a Brahmin 
bodyguard ? " I said, turning to Pamela, who 
came up at that moment. 

" Do you mean Gopinath ? " she answered, 
with a laugh; lf I think him a delightful 
person." She turned her sparkling eyes full 
on my face. 

u I should like to see him/' I said. 

(i He is in the house: I will fetch him at 
once," she answered. She ran off, returning 
in a few moments with the Brahmin, wearing 
a gorgeous turban and elaborately attired in 




the rich colours of his country — he gave a 
low salaam as the young girl introduced him 
to me. His glittering eyes turned from her 
face to mine, then I saw them light upon the 
stone itself with a peculiar expression. A 
moment later he had vanished into a shady 
part of the room, 

" That gem, beautiful as it is, will be a 
white elephant/' I said, to Pamela, 

" Herbert means to have it re-set, and I 

be his wife— her eyes met his for an instant, 
then she looked towards the door. In a 
moment the whole expression of her face 
altered — it grew white, and she clutched 
hold of the nearest chair as if to support 
herself. A lady came up to speak to Captain 
Main waring, who turned to reply to her 
courteously. At the same instant I saw a 
tall man, with a pale face and somewhat 
nervous expression, come hastily forward. 

am to wear it when I go to Court after the 
wedding," she said. "Afterwards I should 
like it to be sent to the hank. It would not be 
safe to have such a treasure in one's house." 

** Certainly not/ I replied ; "that is, unless 
you intend to keep Gopinath." 

41 Oh, I don't know about that, he is certain 
to wish to return to India. I don't suppose, 
either, that I shair often wear the stone — 
it is too magnificent and there is something 
about it which frightens me." 

" I should regard this stone more as 
representing monetary value than as an 
ornament to wear," I said. "It is really 
almost too big, and as you say, looks too 
like the eye of a cobra to be a really com- 
fortable ornament" 

"It is that which gives it its value," said 
Captain Main waring, who now joined us, 
" I don't think, after all, Pamela, that we 
ought to change the setting. A gem like 
that is a possession — it must be a family 
heirloom, eh ? n 

As the soldier spoke he gave an affectionate 
glance at the pretty girl who was so soon to 

Digitized by Ct 


I knew him at once, and his appear- 
ance at that moment startled me not a 
little — he was Pamela Crossth waited 
old lover, Laurence Carroll. He went 
straight to her side, and held out his hand 
without uttering a word, The troubled 
expression in her eyes grew more marked, 
and, in spite of all her efforts, she was really 
trembling violently. Captain Main waring 
turned towards her again ; with a great effort 
she seemed to recover herself, and laid her 
hand on his arm* 

14 Let me introduce you to my friend, 
Laurence Carroll," she said- (< Mr. Carroll — 
Captain Main waring." 

The Captain bowed, and favoured Carroll 
with a brief glance — the slight nervousness 
left Carroll's eyes — they grew bright and 
steady. He began to talk eagerly, and so did 
Pamela, The conversation once again turned 
upon the diamond. Captain Main waring un- 
locked the glass case and, taking the gem 
in his hand, gave it first to me and then to 
Carroll to examine. We were exchanging 
opinions as to the beauty and rarity of the 
stone, but when he thought no one was 
observing him, Carroll's eyes followed Lady 
Pamela, who had left us, with a queer 
resolve growing stronger and stronger in 
their depths. It needed but a few glances 
to show me that his passion was as strong 
as even Presently Lady Pamela and her 
friends approached the part of the room 
where he was standing, She was passing him 




without a word, but he stretched out his hand 
as if to detain her; she turned then and 
looked him full in the face. As she did so 
every vestige of colour left hers, 

14 I came here to-night to give you back 
your promise and your gift," he said. He 
thrust a letter into her hand, and a moment 
later left the room. 

Shortly afterwards I also took my leave, 
and returned to the flat which I occupy in 
Bloomsbury. I have fitted myself up a 
laboratory there, and spend a great deal of 
my time in that sanctum. It was past eleven 
o'clock when I got home ; my servant, Silva 
by name, a Hungarian, was waiting up for 
me. I told him to go to bed, and went 
straight to my laboratory. I was making 
certain experiments of an interesting nature, 
and in particular was anxiously developing 
some photographs which I had just taken 
by means of the Rontgen rays. The new 
discovery was now the craze of the whole 
scientific world, and I, of course, with other 
men of science, was bitten with it. I had 
several vacuum tubes by me, and all the 
necessary apparatus for making the rays. 
My impression was that the new discovery 
would make rapid strides, and would be of 
immense importance to medical science. I 
had just retired into my dark room to develop 
some photographs when there came a ring at 
the front door. It was late for a visitor to 
call, and I went out in some surprise to 
ascertain what could be the matter. Silva 
had not yet gone to bed — he opened the 
door, ushered someone in, and then came 
to me. 

" Mr. Carroll, sir— he would like to see 
you for a few moments." 

" Carroll," I exclaimed, u and at 
— where have you shown 
him ? " 

"Into the laboratory," 
answered Silva, 

" 1 will go to him/' I re- 
plied, "Do not sit up— I 
can let Mr. Carroll out my- 

I returned to my laboratory* 
Carroll was standing where 
the full rays of the electric 
light fell on his face. He 
looked cadaverous — his 
cheeks were hollow, his eyes 
had a disturbed and glassy 
expression. When I entered 
the room I saw that he had 
taken up some proofs of 
mine which lay on a table 

near. They had been sent to me from the 
medical paper for which I constantly write. 
When he heard my step he threw down the 
sheets and came forward to meet me. 

" I do not apologize for calling at so late 
an hour," he said, " for my business is of 
great importance. By the way, that article 
on poison is full of interest — is it for a 
medical journal ? ■ 

u It is for a forthcoming number of the 
Lanctt" I replied, Then I added : " But 
the subject would scarcely interest you." 

" It happens to interest me immensely," 
answered Carroll; il it is about a strange 

fl It is — one of the most dangerous known. 
As you have read some of my description, 
I will tell you how I happened to write the 
paper. I am much interested just now in 
the Rontgen rays, and make many experi- 
ments with the new light. A few days ago, 
while experimenting with ferroeyanide of 
potassium, I accidentally found that I had 
evolved as a by-product that most dangerous 
drug, anhydrous hydrocyanic acid. The 
article, a proof of which you have just looked 
over, is written with a view to show the 
danger which I myself or anyone else, forget- 
ful of this fact, might unknowingly run. 
There is, as I said just now, no more 
dangerous poison known. It causes death by 
inhalation, and the process of making, with- 
out certain precautions, is fatal." 

" Would the victim suffer ? " asked Carroll, 


by Google 

UK BAP TAKEN uQpftfj fl^ffdPFh" 11 ^ 




"No — death would be instantaneous." 

"And you have really made the drug, 
Gilchrist ? " 

" Yes, a few days ago— entirely by accident, 
as my article explains." 

"Well, the subject is interesting," said 
Carroll — he sank into the nearest chair as he 

"There are moments," he continued, 
gazing at me with bright eyes — " there are 
moments in the lives of many men when the 
poison question becomes full of strange fasci- 

" I hope such a moment may never come 
into your life," I said, favouring him with an 
earnest glance — his eyes avoided mine — he 
locked his thin hands tightly together. 

" Now to turn to my own business," he 
said — "I do not apologize for this late visit 
— my state of mind and my circumstances 
are beyond mere apology. I have come here 
to-night, Gilchrist, to ask your advice." 

" My dear fellow, you are heartily welcome 
to it," I answered. 

" You see before you the most wretched 
dog in all Christendom." 

" Oh, come," I said, " matters cannot be 
as bad as that." 

14 You have heard all about I^ady Pamela 
and myself ? " 

u Yes, Carroll, I know that story. I need 
not say that I pity you — you are going through 
a rough time just at present, but believe 
me " 

" I can scarcely listen to ordinary consola- 
tions just now," he replied, breaking in 
abruptly on my well-meaning speech. " I 
had better come to facts at once. I do not 
intend that marriage to take place." 

44 What do you mean ? " 

"Pamela Crossthwaite is not to marry 
Captain Mainwaring." 

fc4 You must be mad ! " I exclaimed. " How 
can you possibly prevent the marriage?" 

He laughed in a troubled sort of way. 

" I have put a cog in the wheel of that 
confounded Captain's prosperity to-night," he 
said. " I gave Pamela a letter which will 
at least insure her having a bad night." 

44 You did very wrong." 

" I do not agree with you — I wish to save 
her from the greatest misery any woman can 
know. Marriage is at best an awful thing — 
to be married to the wrong man is torture." 

44 What have you come to see me about ? " 
I asked, after a pause. 

" Because it is necessary for me to speak 
to someone, and you are an old friend of the 
family. You are also a good sort of fellow 

Digitized by \j>i 

all round, and have helped other men out of 
scrapes before now. Lord Attrill would be 
sure to listen to any words you were good 
enough to say to him. Gilchrist, I want you 
to do me a favour. I want you to go to him 
to-morrow morning in order to plead my cause 
once again." 

" You must be ill, Carroll," I said. " How 
can I possibly interfere at the eleventh hour ? 
The wedding is to take place on Thursday. 
Do you suppose for any plea of mine Lord 
Attrill would permit his daughter to break 
her word to Captain Mainwaring ? " 

" He might if the truth were put straight 
before him," answered Carroll. " Lady Pamela 
loves me — she does not love Mainwaring." 

"You have no right to say anything of 
that sort." 

44 I have every right, for it is true. Did 
you not notice her face when she saw me 
to-night ? " 

I was silent — I had certainly noticed the 
changing colour, the misery which clouded 
the beautiful eyes. After a pause I spoke. 

" I must say some very plain words to 
you," I began. "You are not acting in a 
manly way. It is true that Lady Pamela 
was at one time attached to you — her people 
did not approve of you for her, she was very 
young, and not supposed to know her own 
mind. She suffered at the time, but has now 
got over her troubles. A man in all respects 
worthy of her has come forward, and if you 
have only half the courage you ought to have, 
you will leave her alone to marry him happily 
the day after to-morrow." 

" I am quite impervious to any hard things 
you may like to say of me," answered Carroll. 
41 My mind is absolutely made up. Either 
the marriage between Lady Pamela and 
Captain .vfainwaring is broken off, or I commit 

44 Oh, folly ! " I retorted, starting to my feet. 
44 1 am ashamed even to listen to you. You 
profess to love Lady Pamela, and yet you 
would cast such a terrible shadow over her 

" No, I would draw the line at that," he 
answered ; his lips trembled, and his eyes 
softened for the first time. " If she marries 
Mainwaring, she will never know of my 
horrible fate. I have given her people to 
understand that I am returning to my 
regiment. If I cannot effect the object for 
which I have visited you to-night, I will allow 
her to continue in that belief. She will think 
of me, when she thinks of me at all, as 
living and suffering far out of England. I 
will take good care that she does not learn 




the worst But now to business : will you 

help me or will you not ? " 

"It is impossible for me to help you in 

the way you have just suggested. It would 

be useless — 
were you calm i r 
in your mind 
you would 


agree with me. You would know 
nothing I could possibly do or say 
would alter matters now. If you 
meant to interfere, why did you leave it to 
the eleventh hour ? n 

" Because I have been out of England 
with my regiment The news of the engage- 
ment reached me in Africa three weeks ago. 
I managed to get leave of absence, and took 
ihe first boat back to England I arrived in 
London this afternoon* Well, I will not 
keep you any longer- I am sorry you cannot 
see your way to help me. Had you arranged 
to talk to Lord At trill, matters might have 
been made a tittle easier As it is, I must 
take my own course-" 

" You are fully resolved to see Main- 
waring ? ■ ' 

11 1 am- I have told Pamela in the letter 
which she received to-night of my intention. 
Mainwaring shall not marry her in the dark, 
Before he sleeps to-night he will know from 
me the whole story of our engagement " 

"And your idea is that this news will 
induce him to break off the match ?" 

" I think it probable ; anyhow, I will put 
him to the test." 

" Suppose he sticks to his engagement ? " 

"Then I shall not live to hear the marriage 
bells ring. By the way, Gilchrist, how did 
you say that drug of yours was to be used ? " 

"You have nothing to do with that," I 
answered. "In your present state of mind 
the less you think of poisons the better." 

Digitized by Google 

He rose without a word He was a tall 
and slenderly-made man of wiry build ; his 
lips shut in a firm line. 1 had seldom seen 
a more determined face. 

" I wish 1 could induce you to leave well 
alone," I said to him, 

"And allow that brute to have his way with 
her life ? J1 he replied. " There is no power 

on earth will make 
me do that," 

He shook hands 
with me and left 
the house. 

He had been 
gone but a few 
moments when, 
approaching the 
table where the 
proofs from the 
Lancet lay, I per- 
ceived that page 
eight was missing. 
On this page a 
careful description 
was given of the 
use to which the 
deadly acid could 
be put I looked 
around me in consternation— the page might 
possibly have dropped on the floor— I could 
not find it — the next moment a cry of alarm 
escaped my lips. A small bottle of the drug 
itself had been standing near the manuscript 
—it also was gone. In a moment I knew what 
had occurred. Carroll had seen the word 
" poison " written in large letters on the label 
of the bottle, and had evidently slipped it into 
his pocket before I entered the laboratory, 

I am not in the ordinary sense of the word 
a doctor, although I have studied both 
medicine and surgery — I know, however, 
only too well the deadly and awful nature of 
the drug which the unhappy man had pro- 
vided himself with. To follow him was my 
immediate duty, I put on my hat and went 
out — the hour was now past midnight. The 
moment I found Carroll I would force him 
to return me the bottle which contained the 
anhydrous hydrocyanic acid, but 1 had not 
gone many steps before I remembered, to 
my consternation, that 1 did not know his 
address. He had spoken, however, of visit- 
ing Captain Main waring. Main waring was 
staying at the Savoy. I would go there, 
inquire for the Captain, and, if necessary, 
force my way into the room where the two 
were having their interview. 

I hailed the first hansom I came across, 
and desired the man to drive me to the Savoy 




Hotel, When I got there it was close on 
one o'clock. The night porter afone was up. 
In reply to my message he said he would 
go up to Captain MainwaringVi rooms and 
ascertain if Mr. Carroll was with him. I 
waited in the hall — the man came hack after 
a few moments to inform me that Carroll 
must have left, for the lights were all out in 
the Captaitvs rooms, and he concluded 
therefore that he had retired for the night 

I left the hotel — there was nothing more 
to be done until the morning. I returned 
home, and entering my laboratory spent 
many hours thinking over Carroll's unhappy 
story. As the time flew by my uneasiness 
grew greater and greater — towards morning 
I dropped asleep in my chair. In my sleep 
I was troubled by dreams, in which I saw the 
awful drug which I myself had manufactured 
taking deadly effect on more than one hapless 
victim. When I awoke with a start and 
bathed in perspiration the winter daylight 
was struggling into the room, 

I went to my bedroom, changed my things, 
and ordered Silva to get breakfast. While 
dressing I quickly made up my mind, I 
would have a cup of coffee and call at an 
early hour on Captain Main waring at the 
Savoy. He might possibly know Carroll's 
address. In any case I would be able to 
judge by his manner what effect the young 
man's communication had had upon him. 

Breakfast was served, and I had just 
entered my morning-room when a loud peal 
at the front door startled me. Silva went to 
open it, and the next moment Carroll, white 
as death, and with an expression on his face 
whieh paralyzed the 
words I was about 
to utter, entered the 

The moment the 
servant withdrew he 
came eagerly up to 

" I cannot realize 
it," he said; "I do 
not feel the slightest 
pain ; but all the 
same, I know I am 
a doomed mar 
Captain Main waring 
is dead" 

I sprang to my 

" What do you 
mean ? " I asked, 

"I state a fact. I 
saw him last night, 

and told him the whole story of my engage- 
ment to Pamela Crossthwaite. He was angry 
at first, then he calmed down — said he would 
take a night to think over matters, and 
begged of me to be at the Savoy at eight 
o'clock this morning, I arrived there to find 
the whole place in consternation — the 
Captain was found dead in his bed — a doctor 
had been summoned, who gave it as his 
opinion that there was undoubted foul play. 
I could see by the expression on the faces of 
the hotel servants that I was suspected. I 
told the head waiter that I was going to see 
you, and walked straight out of the hotel. 
Now, what is to be done ? T? 

I( This is terrible," I said ; ** there must be 
some mistake." 

" There is none. Would I invent anything 
so ghastly ? You must see for yourself, 
Gilchrist, what this means to me. I was the 
last person with Ma in waring — we parted in 
anger — the hotel servants will swear as to the 
length of our interview. 1 shall be arrested 
almost immediately — and to confirm mattery 
to make it impossible for me to escape hang- 
ing, there is this, Gilchrist, in my pocket" 

As he spoke he drew out the little bottle 
of anhydrous hydrocyanic acid. 

" Give it to me,* 1 I said, stretching out my 
hand for it. 

"No, I shall keep it now, I took it for 
my own purposes. It lay on your table last 
night. The first thing I saw when I entered 
the room was the * poison 3 label on the bottle, 
I was tempted, and appropriated it before 
you appeared. I was searching for means to 
take my own life if necessary. Just as you 

entered the room 
I had finished 
reading a full 
description of 
the particular 


Or ii 9 kdti I ifjc-s 1 *i doo m e d ha* 

6 4 


action of the poison. I slipped page eight 
of your proof also into my pocket, Here is 
the proof now and hero is the bottle." 

4t WeIl T at least you can give them back to 
me — you need not voluntarily slip a rope 
round your neck." 

14 It is too late," lie replied " When I 
heard the fatal news at the hotel I staggered 
and almost fell Sonie fiend tempted me to 
put my hand into my pocket. I pulled out 
the bottle and stared at it as if I was stupefied, 
A waiter who stood near must have seen the 
word l poison ' on the label. No, I shall brazen 
the thing out now* I have 
come to you as the only 
friend I possess. What do 
you advise me to do ? JJ 

"To sit down 
and if possible 
tell me what 
occurred/ 7 I re- 

Carroll stared at 
me fixedly for a 
moment, then he 
flung himself into 
the nearest chair, 
and clasping his 
big hands round 
one of his knees 
began to speak. 

" I will tell you 
what occurred, 

I arrived late at the Savoy Hotel, but Main- 
waring had not gone to bed, I saw him 
and told him my story. He absolutely 
refused to give Pamela up. ?i 

"About this bottle?" I said, as Carroll 
paused and wiped the moisture from his 

He glanced at it with a strange expression, 

11 1 went to the Crown Hotel," he con- 
tinued* "a small one, not far from the Savoy. 
When I reached my room I took the buttle 
out of my pocket Main war ing's words had 
nearly maddened me. I saw he would not 
relinquish Pamela on any terms. A horrible 
desire to take away my own life surged into 
my brain. 1 read the paper once again in 
which you give a description of the exact 
action of the poison, I broke the seal and 
removed the cork from the bottle. In another 
moment I should have inhaled the drug, and 
my miserable life would have been over— 
but in that instant, terror, as cowardly and 
complete as my former mad passion, filled 
me. I dreaded death as much as a moment 
before I had longed for it. I put the cork 
back into the bottle and thrust it into my 

Digitized by G( 

pocket. Now, that is all— what do you 
advise me to do ?" 

I was just about to speak when a ring at 
the front door interrupted my words. The 
next instant a couple of police officers, 
accompanied by Lord At trill, entered the 
room. One of the men went straight up to 

"Is your name Laurence Carroll?" he 

l( It is," replied the young man. 


w Then I hold a warrant for your arrest on 
suspicion of having murdered Captain Main- 
waring at the Savoy Hotel last night." 

Now that the blow had really come, 
Carroll c|uiet enough. 

" I will go with you, of course,'* he said, 
" but I wish to say at once that I am 
perfectly innocent/' 

"The less you say, the better for your own 
sake just now, sir," replied the man. "It is 
my duty to take you, and, of course, I am 
sorry, but the quieter you come the berter/ 1 

Carroll held out his hand to me— he did 
not even glance at Ixtrd Attrill, who, on his 
part, took not the least notice of him. 

A moment later I found myself alone with 
the old Earl 

11 The scoundrel ! ?> he cried, when the 
door had closed behind Carroll and the 
police officers. " I wonder you allow such a 
fellow to visit you Gilchrist— well, this is a 
nice state of affairs— the only thing left to 
me in life is the pleasure of seeing that 
fellow get the fate he deserves/ 5 

" He is innocent, Attrill/' I said. " Before 
God, I am speaking the simple truth— 




Carroll has no more committed murder than 
I have." 

Lord Attrill favoured me with a queer 

" Well," he said, " I suppose you will 
stick to your opinion, although you must 
not expect me to share it. By the way, this 
fearful news has upset my poor child to a 
terrible degree. She begged of me to ask 
you to call and see her. Will you come with 
me now ? " 

" Of course I will," I replied. 

I put on my hat, and Lord Attrill and I 
left the house. We took a hansom and 
drove direct to Portland Square. 

All preparations for the wedding had been 
of course abandoned, and the big house 
presented a curious spectacle. Waiters and 
upholsterers were quickly taking down the 
wedding decorations and removing all traces^ 
of the coming festival. A door at the further 
end of the wide hall stood open, and Lord 
Attrill and I went straight in that direction 
when we entered the house. The next 
moment we found ourselves in the room 
where Lady Pamela's wedding presents were 
still on view. The table with the glass case 
stood in the centre of the room ; a purple 
cushion lay inside the case — but the diamond 
was gone. 

" Ah ! " said Lord Attrill, noticing the 
direction of my eyes, " poor Mainwaring had 
a queer fad about that stone. He brought it 
here every morning, but insisted on taking 
charge of it himself at night By the way, 
under existing circumstances, it will not be 
safe to leave it at the hotel. I had better go 
at once and fetch it." 

He had scarcely said the words before a 
door at the farther end of the room was 
opened, and the Indian servant, Gopinath, 
glided in. His noiseless entrance might 
scarcely have been noticed by either of us, 
but the moment he saw us he made a queer 
sort of cry which seemed to come from some 
unknown depths, and rushing forward flung 
himself at our feet. 

" ' Sanp Kee Ankh ' is stolen ! " he gasped. 
" I have found the empty case." 

He held up the morocco case in both 

Lord Attrill seized it. 

" What do you mean ? " he said. " Get 
up, fellow. What have you discovered ? " 

" The cobra's eye is gone," repeated the 
man. " I found the case empty, as you see 
it, under my master's pillow. I have brought 
it here. Mainwaring sahib must have been 
assassinated by the thief who stole the gem." 

VoL xii.--9. 

Lord Attrill's excitement on hearing these 
tidings was extreme. 

" This, indeed, gives a motive for the 
murder," he said. " Gilchrist, I must leave 
you. Gopinath, come with me at once." 

The Earl and the Indian servant left the 
room together. The moment they did so 
I turned and rang the bell. A footman 

" Have the goodness to tell Lady Pamela 
that I am here," I said. " Ask her if I can 
do anything for her." 

The man withdrew silently. He came 
back after a very few moments. 

" Lady Pamela wishes to see you at once, 
sir," he said — " will you follow me ? " 

He led me upstairs, and the next moment 
I found myself in a pretty boudoir, the rose- 
coloured blinds of which were down. 

A girl in white glided eagerly forward — she 
stretched out both her hands, and grasped 
mine with frantic force. 

" Do not begin to pity me," she said. " I 
feel no sorrow for Captain Mainwaring's 
fearful end. Oh, I know it is horrible of 
me, but I must tell you the truth — he loved 
me, and they say he has been murdered. As 
far as he is concerned I only feel stunned 
— you will hate me for it, I know, but all 
my sufferings are for Laurence Carroll." 

'"Sit down," I said to her. "This terrible 
event has upset you. Try to be more calm." 

" How can I ? " she said, in reply. " They 
have just told me that Laurence has been 
arrested on suspicion — they believe, too, in 
his guilt, I see it in their eyes — they think 
he murdered Captain Mainwaring. Oh, I 
cannot speak of my fear. A bottle of poison 
was found in Laurence's pocket. They tell 
me you know something about that" 

" Unfortunately, I do." 

" How did he get it ? Had you anything 
to do with it ? " 

" I refused to tell your father when he 
asked me a similar question," I replied, 
" but you are different ; if you will listen to 
me, I will tell you the simple truth." 

I then related in as few words as possible 
the manner in which the dangerous acid had 
got into Carroll's possession. 

" You think he took it because he meant 
to commit suicide ? " 

"That was his intention. Thank God, 
when the supreme moment came he had not 
sufficient strength to carry out his own 
desperate resolve." 

"Are you going to. attend the inquest?" 
asked Lady Pamela, after a pause. 

» Viae ,? 

x es. ■-■ 1 1 '-1 1 1 ki 1 1 r_* 1 1 1 




44 Are you likely to be asked about the 
poison ? J 

" I am certain to be questioned about it." 

u You will not tell what you know ?" 

I looked at her in some surprise. 

" I must not keep my knowledge back/* I 
said. " Remember, 1 shall be under oath." 

** That is the point to which I am coming/' 
she replied, seeming to gather up all her 
strength for a supreme effort " Even though 
you are under oath, I want you to promise 
me, to promise me faithfully, that you will 
keep your knowledge back." 

41 You want me to commit perjury?" I 
said, " You cannot know what you are 
talking about" 

"Yes, I do know/" she replied — here she 
flung herself on her knees at my feet — " what 


does perjury matter ? He will be hanged if 
you speak the truth." 

"Get up/' I said, taking her hand — I led 
her to a sofa which stood near. 

" Promise to conceal your knowledge." 

** Let me speak to you quietly, Lady 
Pamela ; your fears run away with you* The 
wav to do Carroll a real kindness is to clear 

" But what if he cannot be cleared ? " 

* What do you mean ?" 
"I cannot help it/* she gasped; "I fear 
the worst. He was desperate — the letter he 
wrote to me told me that. I ought never to 
have given him up — I never really loved 
Captain Main waring. Oh, anything might 
have happened under such terrible, terrible 

44 You must listen to me quietly," I inter- 
rupted* "You did not speak to Carroll last 
night as I did — you did not see him this 
morning as I did, again. Had you done so, 
the fears which now haunt you would not 
have arisen* That he is a desperate and 
despairing man, I fully admit ; but, Lady 
Pamela, he is not a murderer." 

"You comfort me, in spite of myself," she 
sighed. The look of agony partly left her 
eyes. She wiped the moisture from her 

hi I would not tell you this if I did not 
believe it/ 1 I said. u Now I must revert to 
something else Do you know that the 
diamond is missing?" 

" What ! " she cried, 
" the Snake's Eye ? " 

" Yes, it has been stolen. 
Gopinath has just come to 
the house with the news. 
Your father has gone away 
with him. That fact alone 
seems to me conclusively 
to prove Carroll's inno- 
cence. The person who 
stole the diamond was un- 
doubtedly the one who 
committed the murder. 
Now, it was not money 
Carroll needed — the dia- 
mond would not, in such 
a moment of his life, have 
been of the slightest value 
to him." 

Lady Pamela listened to 
me with flaming cheeks and 
bright eyes. The fact that 
the Snake's Eye was missing 
gave her the greatest con- 
solation, I had to leave 
her soon afterwards, but promised to return 
when I had any news to convey* 

The inquest was held at an early hour the 
following morning. I was, of course, obliged 
to be present* The evidence against poor Car- 
roll was overwhelming, and a verdict of wilful 
murder was returned by the coroner's jury. 

Carroll was locked up to await his examina- 
tion before the magistrate, and the Cross- 
thwaite famflJQ'wcre all plunged into the 




deepest gloom. I called late in the evening 
to see Lady Pamela, but was told that she 
was seriously ill, that a doctor was in attend- 
ance, and that an affection of the brain was 
considered imminent. 

I returned to my own house too restless 
and miserable to take any interest in those 
secrets of Nature which generally absorbed 
my closest attention, I was in my library, 
trying in vain to divert my thoughts s when 
Silva came to tell me that the Indian servant 
had called and wished to speak to me, I 
desired him to be admitted at once, and the 
man entered the room. 

He came straight up to me and presented 
me with a letter from Lady Pamela. I 
opened it. It was a request that I would 
call to see her at an early hour the following 

il I am nearly mad with trouble and 
illness," she said. " An interview with vou 
would give me the greatest comfort," 

While I was reading the letter, Gopinath 
stood with folded arms a few feet away 
from me. I glanced up at him, and was 
immediately struct with the great change in 
his appearance. When last I had seen him, 
he had appeared to me as a strikingly hand- 
some specimen of his race — thin and wiry, 
upright as a dart, with beautiful, supple limbs. 
Now his face was emaciated, his eyes had 
the expression of anguish which one 
sometimes notices in those of a suffering 
dog, his figure was bowed, and 
at interval* long, shuddering 
sighs escaped his lips, 

"You are ill, Gopinath," I 
said, speaking abruptly. 

"Sahib, I suffer," he replied. 
He pressed his hand, as he 
spoke, to his right side. 4 * I 
suffer agony/ 1 he said again. 

"Give me your hand/' I 
said I took it in mine. The 
pulse in the thin wrist was quick 
and wiry ; the man's skin also 
burned ; he was evidently very ill, 
and I thought he must have fallen a 
victim to some form of Oriental fever. 

4i When I breathe I suffer torture," 
he said ; he spoke with a gasp, I 
motioned to him to take a chair, 
but instead of doing so he seated 
himself on the floor with his legs 
doubled up under him, "Can you 
relieve me ? " he asked. " They tell 
me you understand the healing art." 

"You had much better see a 
proper doctor," I said. 

He shut his eyes and began to sway back- 
wards and forwards. 

*' I don't want an English doctor," he said ; 
11 it is the cruel cold of your England that 
makes me suffer. I want to get back to my 
own country, I shall die if I stay much 
longer here." 

He rubbed his hand over his right side. 
As he did so a sudden idea darted through 
my brain. His unaccountable grief, the 
complete change in his appearance, made a 
wild hope leap within me. No suspicion in 
connection with the murder had yet fallen on 
Gopinath. Suppose, after all, he knew more 
about it than anyone else ? In my mind 
there was not the least shadow of doubt that 
the person who stole the diamond was the 
murderer. Suppose the temptation to appro- 
priate so valuable a gem had proved too 
much for Gopinath? 

"Stand up," I said to him, suddenly. 
"You suffer pain there?" 1 pointed to his side. 

"Torture/' he replied. I saw that he 
could scarcely pull himself upright — his 
sufferings were at least real 

"I am going to find out what is the 
matter," I said. 

u Can you cure me?" he asked, a faint 
return of hope coming into his eyes, 

" I may be able to do so. Stay where you 
are for a moment ; I will be back 






I left him and went into my laboratory. 

The moment had come when I might 
really test the Rontgen rays. Was it 
possible that they might indeed be the means 
of discovering crime, and so save an innocent 
life ? Crookes's vacuum tube was got into the 
right position — I saw that the rays worked 
well — then I returned to Gopinath. 

" Come with me," I said. 

He followed me into my laboratory with- 
out a word. I desired him to strip, and 
then after some difficulty arranged him in 
such a position that the rays should pass 
through his body* I turned off the light in 
the room — my electrical battery worked well, 
the rays played admirably in the vacuum 
tube. I removed the cap from the camera, 
and after an exposure of from seven to ten 
minutes, felt certain that I had taken a careful 

" That will do," I said to the black man. 

I led him back to my library. 

" I have taken a photograph of you," I 
said to him, " which may show me the seat 
of your malady. When I have developed 
it, I will come back to you." 

I returned to my dark room, and quickly 
developed the plate. When I had done so, 
and really saw what the mysterious X rays 
had produced, I could scarcely restrain a 
loud and joyful exclamation. The skeleton 
of the wiry Brahmin was distinctly visible, 
and just below the region of the Ileo-caecal 
valve, a foreign substance about the size of 
the Snake's Eye was seen. I had not the 
least doubt, from its peculiar shape, that I 
was looking at the gold socket of the cobra's 
eye, the diamond itself being probably not 
impervious to the X rays. Men of Gopinath's 
nationality had swallowed precious stones 
before now. This was not the first time 
in the annals of history that the human 
body had been made a hiding-place for 

I returned to the sick man, told him that 
I had found out what was the matter with 
him, and might possibly give him relief before 
long. He was in such a state of agony that 
he scarcely listened to my words, and 
evidently suspected nothing. 

I then left the house, and returned in a 
short time with Lord Attrill, and a very 
clever doctor of the name of Symes. I 
showed my photograph to both these gentle- 
men, and their astonishment was beyond all 

"The wretched man is suffering from 
peritonitis," said the doctor, giving a careful 
glance at the well-marked obstruction revealed 

in the photograph. "Of course, the first 
thing is to remove that substance, whatever it 
is— but I doubt if he can stand it If that 
cannot be done almost immediately he will 
not recover." 

" The most important matter of all is to 
wring a confession from him," said Lord 

" Well, come with me now, both of you," 
I said. 

We went to my library, where Gopinath lay 
flat on the floor, groaning piteously. 

" You are so ill," I said to the Indian, 
" that I could not possibly cure you without 
the aid of a good medical man. This is Dr. 
Symes. The first thing he must do is to 
remove the diamond which you have swal- 

His dark eyes, glowing like jewels, were 
fixed on my face. It did not even occur 
to him to deny my accusation. 

"Is there any hope that I shall recover?" 
he asked. 

" None whatever, unless the diamond is 
removed. Now tell us by what means you 
murdered Captain Mainwaring." 

"With a drug known only to my people ; 
but I will not reveal that secret. I brought 
the poison all the way from India, and only 
waited my chance. On the night that I saw 
Mainwaring sahib talking to the young 
English sahib I thought the hour had come. 
I always meant to recover the stone. The 
Sanp Kee Ankh was the eye of one of our 
gods, and his curse was on me unless I 
brought it back. I had furnished myself 
with a skeleton key of the sahib's room, and 
when I thought he was asleep I entered 
softly and poured the poison on his pillow. 
I knew well that it would kill him in a 
moment. I saw him breathe his last, and 
when he was quite dead I slipped the case 
from under his pillow and took the eye. I 
swallowed it as the best means to prevent it 
being discovered." 

The wretched man tried to say something 
more, but fell back, writhing in pain. 

Dr. Symes did all he could for him, but in 
vain ; Gopinath died at an early hour the 
following morning. After death it was easy 
to remove the cobra's eye, and the case 
against Iaurence Carroll naturally fell 

Lady Pamela left England about a month 
ago, and is said to be slowly but surely 
recovering her health. Carroll is still in 
England. Whether these unhappy lovers will 
ever be united in the bonds of holy 
matrimony, time alone can prove. 





i *b 



















J aS 




by Google 

Original from 

Portraits of Celebrities at Different Times of their Lives. 

made his debut at the Theatre Royal, Ghent 
Signor Alvarez is a member of the National 
Academy of Paris (Grand Opera), and for 
three seasons has been at Covent Garden, 

From a Pkaio. by A, Arauiwi A V&. f fit* rdta u z. 


HIS talented artist, whose triumphs 
at Covent Garden are well known, 
although of Spanish extraction, 
was born at Bordeaux, in France. 
He began to learn music at the 
age of seven, and at the earlv age of twenty 

AGE 20- 

where he is also engaged to appear next year. 
He has created many notable parts, and has 
been intrusted with the principal character 
in the coming opera, " Fiedegonde." 

Atifc 17. 
From a Photo. &* Panajou. Bordeaux- 
he was nominated second bandmaster to the 
13th Regiment, garrisoned at Nevers. He 
studied music at the Paris Conservatoire, and 
v<?i. xii.-io 

mat ° ir '' ■•" 

**.ii. a i OrigirTra*#m-n* v - 

U tuditfftxtph. 



joining page, together with these of her hus- 
band, should prove especially interesting at 
the present moment, in connection with the 
ceremony which takes place this month. 




Born 1872. 

Prince Christian 
Charles George 

WALDEMAH, whose 
portraits we give 
here* is the second 
son of the Crown 
Prince Frederick of 
Denmark. The 
pretty set of por- 
traits of Princess 
Maud on the ad- 

From a Pkoto, ty Uanitn £ 1F«ifcr, Copenhagen. 


finm 4 f taf ftp Cart Awv, Oymhagtm. 







From* PturtA l$\ a<JK i*. IKuntit <t l&M t AVtmi a J'htttv. fry] 




From a Photo, bf If. Luwnut, Atnbttridi. 


Born 1870. 

PALAIRET was educated 
at Repton, and Oriel Col- 
lege, Oxford, where he 
graduated B.A. in 1893. He 
is a member of the M.CC, and is a 

Ac;t is. 
From a Pkaia r btf M- G'Ttttrnbrrp^ Clijton, 

I,ancashire man 

by birth. His 

cricket career has 

up to the present 

been a brilliant 

one, and there is 

no reason to 

doubt that it will 

be so in t It e 

future. He cap 

tained the Oxford 

teams in 1892 

and 1893. In 

1894, when play- 
ing for Somerset 

against Notts at 

Nottingham, he 

made 119 runs in 

first-class style. In that same year his average 

for first-class matches was 29- 12. Last year 
stood fourth in the batting 
46*25 runs; while playing in 
v. Yorkshire match he scored 
165 in first- 
class style. He 
is on the whole 
a splendid batsman, 
with fine style, hit- 
ting w T ell all round ; 
he is also a capital 
field and useful 
change bowler. To- 
gether with H. T. 
Hewitt he holds the 
record for the 
highest number of 
runs for the first 

Mr. Palairet 
averages with 
the Somerset 

ACE 19. 

From a FKoLk hv 
W, W~ Winter. 

ACE 7. 
From 4 Ftwto. ty & Fwli t Ttipmu>*th- 

fViniiW!*'"'*' 1 " P>AVn 
From a Phsio. by Itukintun, X*k Btnd Strmt, 


Mr. Andrews Balloon Voyage to the North Pole* 

By Alfred T. Story, 

Y the time these lines are in 
print Mr. S. A* Andr£e, the 
adventurous Swedish aeronaut 
and scientist, and his com- 
panions, Dr. Ekholm and Mr, 
Strindberg, will, all being well, 
have launched themselves in their great 
balloon from the northernmost point of 
Spitzbergen in the hope of reaching, if not 
the North Pole itself, some point very near 
it Whatever may be the outcome of this 
latest of the many daring attempts to solve 
the problem of the Pole> it must be acknow- 
ledged that it is a brilliant conception for 
overcoming one of the chief difficulties that 
have stood in the way of previous endeavours 
to reach the Pole— namely, that of the ice, 
which has in the end stopped the progress of 
all ships, if it has not broken them up 

When Mr. Andr^e first made his proposed 
voyage known to an English audience (at the 
Geographical Congress in 1895), he received 
but scant encouragement at the hands of 
men of science, and probably 
less from the public generally. 
One scientific man, indeed, 
characterized the idea as fool- 
hardy - 3 and in all likelihood 
the majority of people who 
have not taken the trouble 
to follow Mr. Andres reason- 
ing in the matter may be of 
much the same opinion. But 
the same might be said of 
nmst of the multitude of ex- 
peditions that have gone in 
search of the Pole, as well as 
of many other undertakings. 
Every attempt to do some- 
thing that has not been done 
before looks foolhardy to 
most people, until the reasons 
upon which the adventurer 
acts are seen to have been 
justified by results, 

I have gone carefully into 
Mr. Andr6e ; s reasons for hop- 
ing to be able to reach the 
Pole by balloon, and have 
also seen the careful way In 
which he has gone to work 
to prepare his plans and 
apparatus, and although one 

must admit that there are numberless 
accidents, or unforeseen conditions, which 
may militate against his success, yet with 
luck, the chances are much more in his 
favour than they are in NansenV 

The idea of attempting to reach the Pole 
by balloon is one Mr. Aridr^e has had in his 
mind for some years. In 1876, when on his 
way across the Atlantic^ he was struck by the 
regularity of the trade winds. This led him 
to reflect upon the possibility of making long 
balloon voyages, and especially of crossing 
the Atlantic from Europe to America, The 
impossibility, however, as he thought, of 
getting the money for such an enterprise 
caused the idea to be practically laid aside 
until 1892* Then the splendid feat of 
Nordenskiold and the exploits of other 
Swedish scientists and explorers in the Arctic 
regions excited in Mr. Andr^e the desire to 
do something with the balloon in the same 
regions. Hence arose the idea of utilizing 
the balloon to cross the Polar region and 
perhaps to reach the Pole. 


* Copyright, 1896, by Gwrqt N* 




Up to this time his 
study of balloons had 
been mainly theoreti- 
cal ; but now he com- 
menced experimenting 
practically with them. 
He first of all made 
some trips with the 
Norwegian aeronaut, 
Cetti. After that he 
obtained a grant of 
^"300 from a fund for 
scientific purposes 
called " Lars Hjertas 
Minne " {/'.£, Memo- 
rial). With this money 
he purchased a small 
balloon capable of 
holding 40,500 cubic 
feet of gas, with which 
he made some ten or 
twelve ascents. At 
first he used to go up 
from the neighbour- 
hood of Stockholm ; 
but afterwards, for 
convenience sake, he 
generally made his 
ascents from Gothenburg. Here he had the 
assistance of his brother, Captain Ernst 
Andr^e, who, from his practical experience as 
a seaman, has been able to give him great 
assistance. Then, the winds in Sweden 
being generally westerly, 
this gave him the advant- 
age of travelling over land 
and alighting on land, in 
place of going across the 
Baltic as before times. 
Generally in these ascents 
he was very fortunate, but 
on one occasion he came 
down upon an uninhabited 
island in the Baltic, where 
he had perforce to remain 
all night. He was rescued 
in the morning by fisher- 
men, and carried to Abo, 
in Finland, 

The experience of bal- 
loon navigation acquired 
during these trips strength- 
ened Mr. Andr^e's belief 
in the possibility of reach- 
ing the, Pole by air-ships, 
as well as his resolve to 
make the attempt if he 
could get the mcam where- 
with to fit out his expedi- 

ent. £. A. ANDK^t. 
From a PhoUt. by Ftorman, SttvkhtAm. 


From q theto. 6y OTotomhs Stockholm. 

tion. Baron Norden- 
skiold, the celebrated 
Arctic traveller, sup- 
ported him warmly, 
and he had not long 
to wait for the money. 
He estimated that he 
would require in all 
something like 
^7,220. Towards 
this sum one Swedish 
gentleman, Mr. Alfred 
Nobel, gave ^3,460- 
The King immediately 
increased it by a gift 
from his private purse 
°f *£ T >73° ; Baron 
Dickson added an 
equal amount ; and a 
private individual in 
Stockholm brought the 
amount up to the re- 
quired ^7,230 by a 
donation of ^300. 
This practically closed 
the subscription, but 
Colonel Sellstroem, a 
patriotic Swede of 
Buenos Ayres, sent an additional jC 200 * as 
he put it, "for extras that are sure to be 

Having thus secured the means for his 
undertaking, Mr. Andr^e went to work in 
earnest He travelled in 
England, France, and 
Germany, adding to his 
knowledge of balloons and 
their manufacture. On 
his return he carefully 
revised what he had seen, 
drew up the plan of an 
airship such as he wanted 
for his purpose, and gave 
it to M. I^chambre, the 
famous balloon manufac- 
turer of Paris, to construct, 
at a cost of ,£2,000. 

The finished balloon is 
75 English feet in height 
from the appendice, or 
opening, to the summit, 
or 97ft in alt from the 
cap to the bottom of the 
basket, or gondola, in 
which the air-navigators 
will have their sleeping 
place during their sky -voy- 
aging. The upper two-thirds 
of the balloon proper are 





from a Photo, bu Flaming Stockholm, 

made of three thicknesses of silk, 
the lower third of two thicknesses, 
the whole being stuck together with 
varnish. In addition two coats of 
varnish are given to the outside of 
the silk, and two to the inside ; the 
network in which the ballon is 
inclosed is of Italian hemp five 
millimetres in thickness (about sin-). 
At the balloon's largest diameter 
the meshes of the netting are about 
13m- square, decreasing in size, of 
course , as the balloon narrows up- 
wards and downwards. The balloon 
no valve at the top, as is generally 
case, but has instead two on opposite 
sides of the equator, and a third at the 
appendice* This latter is automatic, and is 
designed to prevent the entrance of air 
into the balloon. It opens by a pressure 
equal to ten millimetres (about 4m.) of 
water and lets out superfluous gas* The 
upper valves are opened by lines attached to 
them on the inside, and passing through the 
balloon near to the automatic valve. The 
upper end of the balloon is protected by a 
cap of varnished silk. This is to strengthen 
it against snow and the rays of the sun. 

All the ropes — forty-eight in 
number — coming from the network 
terminate in the suspension or bear- 
ing ring, which, as Captain E 
Andree puts it, is to the ba 

what the keel is to the ship: in short, it is 
its foundation, the strongest part of the whole 
apparatus. This ring is made of wood and 
Is seven metres (about 7j^yds.) in circum- 
ference. Strengthened by cross-bars, it serves 
as a storage place for reserve ropes, anchors^ 

Another contrivance for earning stores of 
various kinds, including provisions, is as fol- 
lows: the spaces between the ropes descending 
from the network to the suspension -ring are 
covered on the outside by canvas. Inside 
the cam r as are sewn pockets in rows one 
above another. They number some 300 in 
all hi some are stored meat in tins, in 
others provisions of various kinds; while in 
others are the materials for a collapsible boat, 
a tent, and three sledges. This storehouse, 
as we may call it, is 15 ft in diameter in the 
higher part, and has a circumference of 50ft., 

while its depth is 

The bearing-ring, 
of course, supports 
the basket and the 
apparatus for steer- 
ing. This steering 
apparatus is a new 
feature in balloon- 


and as it is the 

illoon >( j|£, 

TJIF, li A I.LOO: 

invention of Mr. 
Andrde, and has a 
special reference to 
his hopes of reach- 
ing the i'ole, and 
likewise of return- 
ing to civilization 
again after he has 
been there, it re- 
quires a few words of de- 

It consists of guide-ropes 
and sails. The guide-ropes 
are three in number, and 
are attached by means of 
gearing to the suspension- 
ring, hanging thence to the 
ground or the water, as the 
case may be, and dragged 
along in the wake of the 
balloon* The ropes are 
of different lengths, the 
shortest being 310 metres 
(about 1,017ft,) in length, 
the next 320 
(about 1,042 ft), 
and the longest 
370 m h t r e s 
(about 1,205 ft.), 




and they weigh a kilogramme (Sxmt 2^lh) 
per mfetre. The difference in length is 
designed to prevent them 
from hanging close together, 
in which case, if any of 
them got lodged, all would 
be lodged, and the balloon 
would be stopped in its 
progress. But if any of 
the ropes catch separately 
the balloon can be freed, 
either by the rope breaking 
at its weakest point {spe- 
cially contrived), or by its 
being detached from the 
balloon by means of a 
screw embedded in the 
rope i op mfetres (about 
328ft) from the sus- 
pension-ring* Suppos- 
ing one of the ropes 
were to get caught in 
something, one of 
those in the balloon 


would twist the rope 
at the top, and this 
would have the effect 
of releasing a spring 
and so allowing a 
screw to be unscrewed. 
The guide-ropes are 
trailed after the bal- 
loon, of course, exactly 
in a line with the direc- 
tion in which it is 

going. If the end 
of the rope be 
moved right or 
left in the bearing- 
ring, the balloon 
will at once turn 
round an equal 
distance in the 
opposite direction, 
so as still to keep 
it exactly in its 
wake. : 

This Mr. An- 
drde found to be 
the case when he 
was once cross- 
ing the Baltic and 
had dropped the 
end of a rope into 
the water to 
"slow "the motion 
of the balloon. 
He seemed to see 
a principle in this, 
and at once began to test it for the purpose 
of steering, Mr. Douglas Kennedy, of Gothen- 
burg, giving him the means to do so. 
He found that the retarding effect of 
the guide-ropes on the balloon causes 
the balloon to move with less velocity 
than the wind does, and at the same 
time excites a pressure of wind corre- 
sponding to the diminution of the 
velocity. If this pressure acts upon 
the sail, it will carry the balloon in 
the same direction. If the sail is at 
right angles to the direction of the 
wind, then the direction of the move- 
ment will not be changed. But if the 
sail is brought to a more acute angle 
to the direction of the wind, the pres- 
sure of the wind will cause the balloon 
to deviate from the direction of the 

The balloon carries three sails. 
They are attached to bamboo spars 
lying across the bearing- 
ring and beneath the balloon 
proper One is inside the 
V"y, ropes that support the bear- 

ing-ring, while the other two 
are outside the ropes, pre- 
senting in all Soo square 
feet to the wind. The sails 

DrambMltr. Andrfr 

'_| 1 1 I u I l l ■_» l 1 1 








Promt hu Mr* dnrfrta 

are suspended by broad straps from the top 
of the balloon, the straps being held in place 
by being threaded in and out of the netting- 

In the ordinary way the sails would only help 
to carry the balloon directly before the wind. 
But if the guide-ropes are moved a point or 
two to the right on the bearing-ring, the sails, 
instead of being directly before the wind, are 
brought to a slight angle to it, and the action 
of the ropes dragging behind 
keeps them t^ere, with the result 
that the air-ship, in place of going 
directly before the wind, moves 
in a direction at a certain angle 
to it 

These guide - ropes serve 
another purpose in the guidance 
of the balloon : that is, they 
tend to keep it at a certain and 
equal mean distance from the 

"I shall never go beyond 150 
metres (about 492ft*) from the 
earth if I can help," Mr, Andr^e 
observed in explaining the 
management of his balloon. u I 
may be obliged to go up higher 
if I meet with very high land, 
but so far as possible I shall 
keep to my mean, height of 150 

Mr. Strindberg, busily engaged with a pen 
making a diagram, remarked: " There will 
necessarily be a slight variation of distance 
from the ground ; for when the sun shines 
the gas will be made lighter, and hence the 
balloon will rise a little* In the 
same way, if the sky be overcast 
the gas will be cooled — made 
heavier — and the balloon will 


descend some- 
what. This will 
show you what I 
mean," pointing to 
the diagram here 
given. "The bal- 
loon may rise to 
300 metres (about 984ft.) or it may descend 
to 135 metres (about 443ft). Twenty degrees 
Celsius {equal to 36deg, Fahr + ) in the tem- 
perature of the balloon would make this 

But if the balloon wishes to rise there is at 
once a check put upon it, because it has to 
lift the guide-ropes, which are dragging upon 
the ground or in the water, and which in 
all weigh 1,000 kilogrammes 
(about 2,2041b.). On the con- 
trary, if there is a disposition to 
descend, it decreases the weight 
it is carrying with every foot it 
sinks, because it has so much 
less rope to bear, and hence the 
downward motion is arrested. 
Thus there is a constant force 
at work tending to keep the 
balloon at a mean distance from 
the ground. 

The guide-ropes — which are 
4in. ones — are for the first 100 
mfetres (about 328ft.) of hemp, 
the lower part being of coir, and 
are thoroughly saturated with 
vaseline to prevent their sinking 
when in water, and to diminish 
friction. By means of tackling, 
the guide ropes can be moved 
easily from point to point of the 
suspension-ring, as required for the purpose 
of steering. 

This principle of steering has, since 

Mr. Andree announced its discovery, been 

tested with success in the Mediterranean ; 

and Mr. Strindberg has 

also tested it with success 

in France, 

While speaking of the 

Vft*** ***** 






i'i\>iti >t\ 


guide-ropes, it should be said that the balloon 
is provided with another set of hanging ropes, 
as shown on page 80. These are used for the 
purpose of ballast, and can be cut away if 
need be. They are of the same size and 
composition as the guide-ropes, and in case 
any of the latter should be lost, they can 
be used in their place. 

The basket, or gondola, is circular in 
shape, about 5ft, in depth, and 6)4 ft. in 
diameter. The lower edge on one side is 
cut away, so that if it strikes the ground it 
will not turn over. 
The edge thus 
shaved away is the 
one facing the 
direction the bal- 
loon is going. The 
basket is provided 
with a strong 
wicker-work lid, in 
which is a trap- 
door large enough 
for the exit and 
entrance of the 
travellers, whose 
sleeping-place is in 
the basket. Only 
one person, how- 
ever, will sleep at 
a time, the other 
two being in the 
meantime at work 
in the " observa- 
tory," as the space &&**} 

immediately above 
the basket is 
called* The ob- 
servers stand upon 
the lid, above 
which they have a 
free space of some 
8ft. At a con- 
venient height 
(about 3 y 2 ft.) is 
a ring of equal cir- 
cumference w T ith 
the basket, and 
upon this are 
fastened the scien- 
tific instruments 
with which they 
work: barometers, 
thermometers, sex- 
tants, altazimuth, 
anemometer, an 
instrument for 
determining the 
direction and 
velocity of the clouds, one for recording 
the intensity of the sunlight, another for 
showing the true horizon, compasses, a 
magnetometre, a theodolite, and last, but 
not least, two photographic cameras ; indeed, 
instruments of every kind and shape for 
astronomical, geographical, and meteoro- 
logical observation. Some of these are 
entirely new and novel, the invention 
either of Dr. Ekholm or Mr. Strmdberg, 
The wonder is how the three voyagers will 
ever find time to use them all and to record 




[l J ko r ,-■■'"■! ;i - 



k'Tnfm tlj 


the results of their observations. The 
marvel decreases to some extent when we 
remember that they will have no night, and 
that two of them will be constantly at work 
— c< all round the clock,' 1 as L>n Ekholm 

The accompanying illustration will give 
the reader some idea of the i( observatory," 
but when in j//*, suspended from the balloon , 
a canvas covering will extend round the 
supports, which will, to some extend protect 

the observers from 
the wind. Inside, 
the canvas is pro- 
vided with pockets 
for holding record- 
ing books, instru- 
ments when not 
in use, etc, ^ 

All the explorers 
seem to be pos- 
sessed of a demon 
of work. During 
the latter months 
of preparation Mr. 
Andree was at 
work in his room 
at the Academy 
of Science, Stock- 
holm, most days 
at four or half- 
past in the morn- 
ing, and he seldom 
left off before mid- 
night Everything 
connected with the 
balloon was tried 
and tested by him- 
self with the 
utmost patience. And this he thoroughly 
enjoys. Someone having remarked : "When 
you once get up in your balloon, Mr. Andree, 
you will be anxious to get the voyage over 
and reach home again?" "Oh r no!" he 
replied ; (t we shall not have time to think of 
that. There will be so much work to do, that 
we shall not be able to note how the time 
goes — so many observations to make and so 
many figures to set down in our books." He 
added : " I only hope we do not go too 








by jyin.), and when in use hangs by a 
rope 25ft. below the roof of the basket. By 
means of a string running down an india- 
rubher tube, a match is struck and a spirit 
lamp is lighted In half an hour water is 
boiled, soup made, or meat cooked ; then by 
a puff down the tube the lamp is extinguished, 
and the food is ready to be hoisted" up and 
enjoyed. It cannot be used, however, in a 
high wind. 

Speaking of this and other inventions made 
especially for the expedition, Mr. Andree re- 
marked, " I have made something like thirty 
inventions in connection with the balloon ; 
then manufacturers have made others to 
overcome difficulties ; so that with Dr. 
Ekhohn's and Mr, Strindberg's in regard to 
instruments, I may say that sixty or seventy 
inventions in all have been made m order to 
carry out specially the design of the expedi- 
tion." One of these is an invention by 
which they will have fresh bread all the time. 

It only remains to refer to the "trawl/ 
the collapsible boat, and the sledges, to 


quickly, else we shall not have time 
to make our observations. If it 
were possible, I should like to stand 
still sometimes." 

While speaking of instruments 
and apparatus, one very important 
apparatus should not be forgotten. 
This is a cooking-stove specially in- 
vented by Mr, E. Goransson, Mr. 
Andree's first employer, to 
obviate the danger that would 
arise if cooking were done 
in too close proximity to 
the gas, It measures 25 by 
45 centimetres (about ioin. 



*lfeirfc«RE5TRIAL WACW*t|f|^Cp' \ TV QT 


finish with the balloon 
and its various fixings 
and apparatus. The 
boat is 12ft. in length 
by 4ft, in breadth ; 
the frame- work of it 
is of ash, and the 
covering of silk, the 
same as that of the 
balloon. No nails are 
used in its construc- 
tion, the keel, ribs, 
etc., being tied to- 
gether wi th s i news. 1 1 
carries three persons 
and 600 kilogrammes 
(about 1,3231b-) of 
freight. Two men can 
put it together in six 
hours, and it is so 

Atoftw any of the 



party can carry it 
without help. I 
can speak with 
confidence of its 
sea worthiness, as, 
together with Mr. 
Andree, the de- 
signer and manu- 
facturer, M. Ply 111, 
and two other 
gentlemen, I had 
a trip in it on lake 

It may be noted 
here that the silk 
used for the bal- 
loon and the boat 
has been found, 
when prepared 
with vamisbj so 
impermeable by 
wind or water, that 
the aerial voyagers 
have had suits made of it to wear when in 
their sky-observatory. Their other clothing 
includes sleeping bags like those used by 
Nansen in his Greenland expedition. 

The sledges, like the frame of the boat, 
are made uf ash. They are nearly three 
metres (about gft loin.) in length, weigh a 
little over 12 kilogrammes {about 2 6^1b.) r 
and carry 100 kilogrammes (about 22olb.) 
each. They are made from the design of 
Mr, Andree, and the accompanying diagram 
by him will show in what they differ from the 
old form of Arctic sledge. In short, they are 
of the same shape top and bottom, so that if 
the runners get damaged by the ice, the 
sledge can be turned right over. " By that 
means," said Mr. Andree, as he finished his 
sketch, u I get as good as two sledges out of 


Druvm. bif Mr. Andrn. 


In the next illus- 
tration one of the 
sledges is shown 
on its side, and 
upon it is a small 
apparatus which 
may be worthy of 
a few words. It 
represents a small 
buoy, made of 
cork and covered 
with copper wire, terminating in a spiral 
bearing a Swedish flag. The idea is to 
drop one at each degree of latitude as 
a way-mark. They are so buoyant that 
they will always bear the flag aloft* 
and if crushed flat betwixt ice-blocks, 
they immediately resume the r rotundity 
on being released and wave the national 
emblem. Within each is a brass tube 
in which will be placed a record and 
chart of progress made. 

As regards the use of the boat and the 
sledges, it is proposed to have recourse to 
them only at the last extremity. The sledges 
are designed chiefly for employment in the 
event that, after the explorers have descended 
to earth, they should have to travel long 
distances over snow and ice, as they might 
have to do in Siberia or North America. 
The stores include, of course, leathern sledge 
harness for each person* 

As to the men who are committing their 
lives to this elaborately constructed and 
expensively fitted machine for floating through 
the air, they form a striking trio. Dr. 
Ekholm, the oldest, is a man bordering on 
fifty years of age, though he bears his years 
well, appearing to be in the best of health, as 
he certainly always is in the best of spirits. 
He is sparely built, of medium height, and 
fair complexion, with a high and prominent 

Dravn by] 







In JMBft 

. _ 

1 i 









forehead. He is a doctor of science, and 
one of the best-known meteorologists in 
Europe, So long ago as 1882-83 he had 
charge of a Swedish scientific expedition to 
Spitzbergen, in which Mr, Andr^e took part. 
He is the author of several treatises on 
subjects connected with meteorology. 

Mr. Andree is an engineer by profession, 
but is now the examiner-in-chief of the 
Koyal Patent Office in Sweden. He is very 
tall, standing over 6ft, broad-shouldered, and 
altogether of herculean frame. It is possible 
that he may return from his voyage before 
completing his forty-second year. In a city 
notable for handsome men, he is remarkable 
for his good looks. With a well-marked 
Wellington nose, which people it! Sweden 
regard as an augury of success, and a piercing 
blue-grey eye, he seems cut out for command. 
Like Dr. Fkholm, he is very fair, with blonde 
moustache and hair. Very quiet in manner— 
almost reservedj indeed — he appears at first a 
little repellent to strangers, But amongst 
those who know him he is genial and full of 
laughter and the brightest of good-humour. 
Indeed, as regards his humour, no one can 
talk with him long without being struck by it. 
It bubbles out on all occasions. For instance, 
when speaking of the provisions he was 
carrying, after saying that these would be 
700 kilogrammes in all, he remarked, " A lot 
of that will be water— liquid — of course, but 
it will not be all water. When we get to the 
Pole we shall want to drink some champagne, 

It is very droll to hear Mr Andree recount 
his yarns, and one only hopes he may pre- 
serve his spirits and good-humour during the 
trying times that art; before him and his 

The third and youngest member of the 
party, Mr, Nils Strindbcrg, is, like his chief, 
a man of magnificent physique, and apparently 
well fitted to undergo any amount of fatigue. 

fine open 

He is not yet 
twenty -four years 
of age ; but he has 
already distin- 
guished himself at 
the University, 
especially in 
science, and is a 
teacher at the High 
School for Science 
in Stockholm. 
Dark in complex- 
ion, with the ruddy 
hue of youth, he 
is possessed of a 
and has the frank, 
a boy. He takes 


manners of 
immense delight in the prospect of the 
voyage to the Pole, for which he has prepared 
himself by several balloon ascents in France* 
He speaks English a little, and when asked 
if he was at all nervous on going up in a 
balloon for the first time, he replied: " Uh, 
no, the pleasure was huge ! It was immense ! " 
He certainly could not have been very 
nervous, for over dinner he confessed that 
a young French lady had placed an album in 
his hands when he was about to ascend, and 
had asked him to write some verses in it 
when as high up as the balloon would go. 
" And did you write them ?" was the natural 
query. "Certainly," said he. But he would 
not tell what they were. 

This young gentleman, although born so 
far north, is not at all wanting in that esprit 
wherein the French take so much delight, 
and of which they are rather disposed to 
imagine they possess the sole secret, 
Naturally the North Pole was apt to intrude 
itself into all conversations in which the 
explorers took pnrt, and so it happened that 
one person asked Mr, Strindberg how they 
would know when they reached the Pole. 
Said he : "We shall know we are at the Pole 
the instant the south wind becomes a north 
wind." That question could hardly have 
been answered more neatly — not even by Mr, 
Andree, who is noted for his quick repartee, 
Here is an instance. He was asked by a 
very unscientific person : *' In what direction 
does the Pole lie from Spitsbergen — north or 
north-east ? n " About that," said Mr. Andre*e, 
To another person who asked : '* What would 
you do if your balloon collapsed and you 
came down into the water?" he gave the 
instant answer, " Drow T n ! " 

But one feels sure that the end would not 
come about so simply and undramatically as 
that, and m tajkinjj\llie ..matter over quietly 

nt£ the matter 




Mr. Andrge tells you : li If we were to come 
down in the water the basket might swim for 
a while. If it did, it would be dragged very 
quickly through the water, I believe we 
should go quicker than the greyhound of the 
Atlantic. But if things came to the worst, 
we would cut the basket loose and climb up 
on to the bearing-ring." (There is a rope- 
la dder, it should be said, from the top of the 
basket to this ring.) "We shall stick to the 
balloon to the last In the boat we might go 
ten or twelve miles a day ; in the balloon we 
would go a hundred/ 1 

On one of the occasions when Mr, Strind- 
berg was taking a balloon trip near Paris a 
number of dogs followed it, barking and 
seizing hold of the guide-ropes with their 
teeth. Writing his experience in a letter 
to Stockholm, he pointed to this as a 
probable foretaste of what they might 
expect when travelling with their balloon in 
the Polar regions, where the bears might 
imitate the French dogs and hang on to 
their guide-ropes ! 

Both Dr. Ekholm and Mr. Strindberg have 
the greatest confidence in 
their chief, and well they 
may, for a cooler or more 
courageous man is rarely 
to be found. He is said 
by those who have seen 
him in times of danger not 
to know fear. On one 
occasion during the expedi- 
tion to Spitsbergen, already 
referred to, when walking 
out alone he met a Polar 
bear, which came towards 
him as though desirous of 
trying conclusions with 
him. His first thought 
was : " I should like to 
have you " ; but he had no 
arms t nothing indeed but 
a stick. With it, however, 
he so belaboured Bruin 
that he turned and fled 

Another incident re- 
lating to the above 
expedition may be recorded here as showing 
Mr. Andree's devotion to science. One of 
the experts during the long winter paid 
special attention to the effect of darkness on 
the eye, and was one day regretting that he 
could not have another month of darkness 
in which to complete his observations. 
Andrte at once said : " I will remain another 
month in the dark for you, if you like. It 
won't matter tome; I have plenty of work 


Commander or the Kwp. which takes tbe 

balloon 10 Spitzbergen. 

Pntm a l*hoio. by Hapmun, LandiJcrunn. 

to do." This expedition was charged especially 
with the investigation of the electricity of the 
air, and Mr. Andr^e brought home 15,000 
personal observations— such is his passion 
for work. 

The expedition naturally divides itself into 
three parts: {1) the voyage to Spitzbergen; 
{2) the balloon voyage thence to wher- 
ever it may happen to go — possibly to the 
Pole; and {3) the journey home. 

For the transport of the travellers, their 
balloon, the materials for inflating it, etc M 
and the necessary provisions to Spitzbergen, 
the iron ship Virgo, of 5,500 tons carrying 
capacity, Captain H. Zachau — a man of 
Falstaffian proportions and "infinite jest" — 
was chartered. It sailed from Gothenburg 
on June 7th, calling at Tromsd on its way to 
take in additional stores, stuff for making the 
gas, etc. From Tromso the run to Amster- 
dam Island, Spitzbergen, takes about four 
days, and Captain Zachau expected to reach 
his destination about June 18th. 

Arrived there, and a landing safely effected, 
there was much to be done — the wooden 
house, 95ft. in width and 
100ft in height, for shel- 
tering the balloon during 
inflation, to be put up, the 
gas-tr:aking shed and ap- 
paratus to be erected, and 
a great deal of detail work 
to be seen to, The house 
was constructed at Gothen- 
burg at a cost ofj£i T ooo. 
It is octagonal in shape, 
and is so substantially put 
together, that when half 
of it is taken away the 
other half remains perfectly 
stable- This was done with 
the view of allowing the 
lee -side to be removed 
when a suitable wind arose, 
so that the balloon could 
get free from the house 
without being subjected to 
undue pressure from the 
wind. The entire struc- 
ture contains 6,600 cubic feet of wood, and 
the roof, which is of canvas, is so constructed 
that it can be removed in a few minutes by 

From this, and from the apparatus for 
making the hydrogen gas, some idea will be 
obtained of the size and power of the balloon. 
The material for making the gas consists of 
40 tons of iron filings, -55 tons of sulphuric 



first estimate was that it would take three 
days to inflate the balloon, but from experi- 
ments made at Stockholm, where the ap- 
paratus was constructed, he found that the 
time could , if necessary, be shortened. For 
putting up the house, making the gas, etc, 
a large number of carpenters, blacksmiths, 
and other artisans — including an experienced 
gas -maker — were taken with the expedition 
to Spitzbergen. 

Everything being ready, it was Mr, 
Andrtfe's intention to take advantage of the 
first southerly wind, if strong enough, to let 
go his moor- 
ings and sail 
away north, 
into the 
regions of, 
eternal ice. 

afford to lose i,ooo cubic feet without detri- 
ment to the efficiency of the balloon." He 
adds very quaintly, "And we carry food for 
only four months — about 120 days." To the 
same effect Mr, St rind berg, when asked if he 
had any doubts as to the success of the voyage, 
replied: "Before we tested the balloon for 
impermeability by the gas— yes. But since 
we have found by experiment that the loss 
of gas is so small, I have no doubt at all." 

Speaking of the work 


of observation, Dr, 
Ekholm says, in 
his precise way : 
u The principal in- 
struments and 
methods are those 
for determining 
the geographical 
position by means 
of sailors' day's 
work and of as- 
tronomical obser- 
vation, and the 
photographic ap- 
paratus. They 
form together what 
may be termed the 
sight — mental and 
physical eye — of 
the expedition." 

The following 
diagram and ex- 
planation of the 
way in which 



None of the explorers appear to have the 
least doubt about their coming safely home 
from their perilous adventure. The only 
doubt there seems to be in their minds is as 
to where they will land, and how far they 
may have to travel over snow and ice before 
they reach the borders of civilization. In 
conversation with them it was curious to note 
the way in which each looked upon the 
experiment. Dr. Ekholm is a man of science 
pure and simple, and it was from that point 
of view, and that only, that he regarded it ; 
whilst in the minds of his two companions 
the adventure— the daring of the thing- 
appeared to count for something. 

Dr. Ekholm is the only one of the party 
who had no previous experience in ballooning, 
but he had made himself thoroughly 
acquainted with every detail of the con- 
struction and management of the balloon, 
and with all the literature on the subject. 
*' We have made every calculation/' he says, 
" and I do not know how we can fail We 
lose per day of gas one cubic foot. We can 

reckon their position and rate of travel may 
be interesting to some readers. They are 
from the hand of Dr. Ekholm himself: — 

" A frame, C 1> E F, with a longitudinal 
thread, A B (and several transverse ones), is 
connected with the compass* The direction 
of the frame is adjusted so that the eye 
of the observer sees an object on the ground 
running along the thread, A B, w T hen the 
magnetic course is read on the compass, 
'then the angular velocity is determined by 
observing the time (in seconds) during which 
the line of sight i.s moving from the 
position on the threads, G H and I K, to 
that on the threads, G H and I, M. Then, 
knowing the height of the instrument 
above the ground, the velocity is easily 
calculated. Also, the velocity may be 
strictly determined hy observing the move- 
ment along the ground of marks on the 
guide-ropes, from 100 to 600 metres (about 
109 to 654 yards,) 

"Magnetical charts, specially calculated for 
the expedition by Mr. V. Carlmheim-Gyllen- 



skiold, allow of the ready reduction of the 
ma^neticai course to the true one," 

In answer to a question about their astro- 
nomical observations, Dr. Ekholm says: 
'* They arc made by means of a special 
instrument called the navis-azimufh — 
the invention of an Englishman— form- 
ing at once an altazimuth and equatorial 
The true bearing of the compass being 
approximately known, one determines 
by means of this instrument at once 
and without calculation the latitude 
and longitude 
even in the 
hood of the 
Pole— only by 
sighting at the 

rain were to fall and it froze, that would be 
a real danger, because it might overweight us 
and bring us to the ground. But apart 
from that, I do not see much danger. If we 



§4 Cv3&v#+^ 


AniwnM 11 juts OF TRAVEL [Dr.EMulnL 

sun or the moon, taking the Greenwich time 
simultaneously on the chronometer. Also 
the sextants may be used for the same pur- 
pose, and by the aid of specially-constructed 
chnrts for applying Sumner's method, the de- 
termination may be made nearly without 
calculation and in a few minutes/' 

It is only by knowing something of the 
nature of these observations, and under- 
standing to what extent the expedition is 
planned to carry them out, that its true scope 
can be appreciated. By this means also the 
real character of the men conducting It can 
only be properly estimated. If the expedi- 
tion prove successful, Mr. Andr^e calculates 
that it will take him and his companions 
three years to prepare the work for publica- 
tion, in which the whole of their observations, 
and the natural deductions therefrom, will be 
set forth. 

As regards the temperature they will 
experience, Mr. Andr^e thinks they will have 
it about freezing point all the time. "Our 
chief danger, 3 ' he adds, "will arise from snow 
or rain getting frozen on the balloon. If we 
were to have much snow and it became 
firmly attached to the balloon, or if much 

Vol *tL-12. 

got into a cyclone, we 
could steer out of it, as 
a ship does." 

Dr. Ekhol misestimate 
is that under favourable 
circumstances they may 
travel at the rate of from 
twelve to fifteen miles 
an hour, and that they 
might reach the Pole in 
six days, and Siberia or 
the North American 
Continent In two weeks 
more. "But this," he 
remarked, " is putting 
things in the most 
favourable condi tion. 
Possibly we might be 
six weeks in reaching 
continental land, and 
that is really more likely to be the case." 
Mr. Andrees estimate is much shorter than 
this. He reckons the balloon's mean rate 
of travelling at twenty miles an hour, or 
nearly that. u So," he says, "we may be at 
the Pole in forty-two hours, and in Siberia or 
Behring's Strait in a week ! " He laughs as 
he says so, but adds : " It is quite 
possible ; hut I don't think it is very 
probable, It is more likely that we shall 
be three weeks or even more. 1 would 
rather not do it so quick, because of our 
observations/ 1 

It may here be noted that, judging from 
what is known of the prevailing winds in the 
Polar regions, the explorers arrived at the 
following conclusions as regards the probable 
place of their landing : 

{1} The greatest probability is that the 
balloon will land in Siberia, in about latitude 
70N. and long. 135E. 

(z) That it will land on the Samoyeden 
Peninsula in lat. 70 N«, long, 70 E, 

{3) That it will land in the vicinity of 
Cape Barrow, in Alaska, in lat. 70 N. and 
long- 155 W., where there is an American 
Government suiton, 




(4) That it will land in British North 
America in lat. 67 N., long. 100 W. 

Speaking of these probabilities, Mr. Andr£e 
said : — 

" For myself I would like as well as any- 
thing to sight continental land at Behring's 
Strait, and be able to go as far as San Fran- 
cisco; but that is not likely. What would 
please me the least, perhaps, would be to 
come down in Northern Greenland, which 
would probably compel us to remain there 
a year. We might, of course, find our- 
selves brought right back to Spitzbergen, 
though that, of course, is hardly to be 

"In case we are compelled to make a long 
journey over the ice and snow, we shall have 
to depend very much upon the animal life we 
meet with for food. We should not be able 


to carry food for more than a month. But 
the Arctic regions abound in life, and we 
shall have our guns." 

How much Dr. Ekholm is sacrificing at 
the shrine of science may be gathered from 
the fact that he " took to himself a wife " 
after the expedition was decided upon, and 
he had undertaken to go with it. Personally, 
he wished to postpone the wedding until his 
return ; but the lady felt brave, and desired 
that the ceremony should take place without 
delay. " But," said Mr. Andree, referring 
one day to his companion, "as the time 
approaches for our departure she weakens — 
she finds she is not so strong as she thought 
she was. It is very sad to see how wistfully 
she looks at her husband ; but she says 
nothing." Neither Mr. Andree nor his 
younger companion is; married. But it does 



9 1 

stUl living, a 

lady of seventy. 

expedition she 

not follow that there are not hearts that 
will be anxiously awaiting the result of 
the expedition. Mr, Andr^e's mother is 

bright and active-minded 
Everything concerning the 

watches with the greatest 
interest. Not an article or paragraph ap- 
pears about it but she must have a copy, 
and these she dates and puts awuy with the 
greatest care. She has specially asked to 
have a copy of The Strand Magazine 
containing this article, that she may preserve 
it with the rest. Captain Andree says the 
old lady is not so anxious now about her 
son's perilous voyage. She has got used to 
his ballooning, and believes that he will come 
out of the experiment all right But she 
was extremely anxious about him when on 
his earlier balloon flights. 

Everyone will wish the plucky balloonists 
the most favourable of winds and the best of 
luck> and especially that the good lady of 
seventy may have the happiness ere long of 
embracing her son on his return from the 
Pole, or from those regions of "thick-ribbed 
ice n where the Pole lurks. 

It remains only to say that should the 
voyagers have the good fortune to return, and 
they should descend in any part of the 
Russian dominions, they will be given every 
possible assistance, lens of thousands of a 
circular, of which we give a photographic 
reproduction, have been distributed broad- 
cast throughout Siberia, instructing all and 
sundry what to do should the balloon descend 
in their midst. Similar circulars have been 
distributed also in Alaska and British Norih 

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by Google 

Original from 

Dog Smugglers. 

By Charles S* Pelham Clinton. 

T is no uncommon thing for 
visitors to Gibraltar to hear the 
report of a shot ring out in the 
stillness of the night, and echo 
against the vast mass of rock 
that goes by the name of 
" England's Key to the Mediterranean." 
They must not think, however, that this 
means that war has broken out between 
England and Spain, and that the Spaniards 
are attempting to regain possession of their 
lust stronghold ; it only means that the 
Carahineri, or Custom House authorities, 
are endeavouring to suppress, with a strong 
hand, the smuggling of tobacco, Their 
bullets, in this instance, are not directed 
against two-legged smugglets, but against 
those with four legs— dogs, in fact— though 
these are aided, of course, by their biped 

Nearly everybody knows of the neutral 
territory that lies just to the north of 
Gibraltar ; but for the sake of any who do 
not, it may be said that it is a strip of land 
about half a mile wide, running across the 
isthmus which connects the Rock with the 
mainland, and which is bounded on the 

south side by the British lines, and on the 
north by the Spanish, or I-a Linea, as 
they are distinctively called ; and at this 
latter place there is always a strong force of 
Custom House officials on the look-out for 
smugglers* The illustration given below will 
make this description clear. 

It must be remembered that, although a 
British possession, Gibraltar is an entirely free 
port, with the exception of a light import 
duty on alcoholic liquors, which has been 
recently imposed. This privilege was granted 
to it at the beginning of last century f in the 
reign of Queen Anne, and for the last 200 
years the Rock has been the paradise of 
those who prefer Free Trade to what some of 
our home politicians dignify with the name 
of Fair Trade, Spain, on the other hand, im- 
poses heavy duties on most of her imports, so 
that the difference in the prices of many 
commodities on the opposite sides of the 
neutral ground is very marked. 

The Spanish, perhaps more than any 
other, is a nation of smokers, and when 
one knows that, in addition to the heavy duty 
imposed on tobacco, its manufacture is a 
jealously -guarded Government monopoly, 


nil-: -.j- 

by GOOglC 


Original from 



yielding a revenue of between three and 
three and a half millions sterling per annum, 
the inducement for a Spaniard to become 
a contrabandist will be seen to be very 
strong. Signor Espagnol strolls across into 
the town of Gibraltar, and while there thinks 
he may as well buy a pound of tobacco free 
of duty; this he does, and then he has a 
chance to exercise his ingenuity in getting 
back past the line of Carabineri^ who are 
waiting at the Spanish boundary to examine 
all persons, carts, carriages, beasts of burden, 
and parcels, to see if there is any tobacco 
concealed in or about them. 

Thomas Carlyle, a great lover of the sooth- 
ing weed himself, by the way, once said, with 
the open expression of opinion and hatred of 
sham that characterized him : "The Govern- 
ment lays a tax of some hundreds per cent 
upon the poor man's pipe, while the rich 
man's wine pays scarcely one-tenth of this 
impost ; but it is a comfort to think (as I have 
been told) the amount of tobacco smuggled 
is about as great as that which pays duty." 
Such may have been the case in this country 
when these words were written, but here, at 
any rate, they do not now hold good. At 
Gibraltar, however, in spite of the watch- 
fulness spoken of above, the quantity 
of tobacco smuggled from the Rock into 
Spain is still very great, although, owing to 
the co-operation of the British authorities 
with the Spanish, it is considerably less 
than it was a decade ago. 

The love of tobacco is pretty nearly 
universal through all grades of Spanish 
society, from the street urchin to the highest 
in the land, and it is said that even among 
these last there are to be found some who 
are not above evading the tobacco tax 
should opportunity offer. When one of the 
Governors of Algeciras, so the story goes, 
had come from that town, which is on 
the west side of the Bay of Gibraltar, to call 
officially on the Governor of Gibraltar, the 
members of his suite took advantage of the 
opportunity to fill their pockets with the 
" weed," and, of course, they were not 
searched when passing through La Linea, for 
a Spanish officer is surely above reproach ! 

The ways of even the most common- 
place smuggler are always of interest to 
the more honest portion of the populace, 
for, as has been said time and again, 
the ingenuity they display in devising 
means to carry on their illicit calling might, 
if turned to a legitimate purpose, have 
benefited the world as greatly as the inven- 
tiveness of a Stephenson or an Edison. 

Many of the methods adopted by the 
smugglers at Gibraltar have been discovered 
and suppressed, but it is not easy to put an 
end to the traffic altogether, even though the 
methods by which it is carried on are known 
to the authorities. One very ingenious idea 
was that of a Spaniard who used to smuggle 
from Gibraltar to San Roque by means of 
a freshly -baked 4lb. loaf, of the ordinary 
English type. To all appearance it was 
only a very ordinary sort of loaf, the outside 
being beautifully brown and crusty, but, oh ! 
the base use to which it was put. This loaf 
was only a thin bark of the staff of life to 
hide the three pounds or so of tobacco 
which contributed nothing to the Spanish 

Another gentleman adopted the device of 
arraying himself as a priest, and devoutly 
attended mass every morning in Gibraltar. 
Like the good man he wished to seem, he 
invariably carried with him his Bible, a tome of 
goodly size, and there is little doubt that he 
derived considerable benefit from it, from a 
worldly point of view at any rate, for on a 
certain day one of the Custom House officers 
had the impertinence to ask him to open the 
book, whereupon it was found to be nothing 
but a box, and its leaves, instead of being of 
paper, were discovered to consist of tobacco. 
Both this Bible and a specimen of the loaves 
mentioned above now repose among the 
relics at the head office of the Custom House 
at Madrid. 

A good deal of smuggling is also done by 
sea, and the fishermen are in the habit of 
getting empty paraffin tins and filling them 
with tobacco. They then attach to each 
tin a small weight, just sufficient to sink 
it, and throw them overboard in shallow 
water when they see a storm coming on. 
This is always done at a particular state of 
the night tide, so that with the combined 
effect of the tide and the waves raised by 
the storm, the tins are washed ashore, where 
their owners are carefully watching for them, 
and when they reach the strand, they are at 
once conveyed to a place of safety. 

Another vehicle for smuggling by sea in 
comparatively large quantities was only dis- 
covered a few weeks ago, although it had 
been in use for a considerable number of 
years. It took the form of a boat with a 
double bottom, so ingeniously constructed 
that it would probably never have been dis- 
covered had not some traitor given informa- 
tion to the Carabineru It was provided on 
each side, near the keel, with small doors, by 
means of which the space between the true 




and false bottoms could easily be filled with 
tobacco, and the whole was so perfectly con- 
structed that no damage could be done by the 
admission of sea -water. f eour s e, the f e cou I d 
be no harm in this boat taking an occasional 
cruise from the Spanish territory to Rosia 
Bay, and equally of course, it was the most 
natural thing in the world to haul her up on 
the beach when she was not going to be used 
for a few days, in order to keep her out of 
reach of the storms, sudden and severe, 
which break at times over the Bay. But a 

Gibraltar might be sure that he bought only 
quite young birds, and that they would be 
freshly killed. He was either a very unlucky 
or a very poor salesman, or, perhaps, the 
dwellers on the Rock didn't want turkeys at 
any price, for his flock was rarely much 
numbers and not at all in 
individuals, when he wended 
across the neutral ground 
before evening gunfire, after which the gates 
are shut, and no one is allowed to pass 
through. It may have been from sympathy. 

diminished in 
the size of the 
his way back 


new light was thrown on the rat son d'etre of 
the boat and her crew when it was found 
that she was run high and dry only to give 
an opportunity for taking the concealed 
tobacco from her, and naturally, when this 
came to light, the officials at once confiscated 
and destroyed her, so promptly that not even 
a photograph of her was taken* 

The services of other than human bipeds 
have also been put under contribution by the 
smugglers, and a ruse which succeeded for a 
long time was that of a Spaniard who kept a 
turkey farm. Englishmen are notoriously 
fond of turkeys, so our farmer would drive 
such of his birds as were plump and ready 
for consumption across from Spanish to 
English territory, so that the purchaser in 

Digitized by TjOOglC 

or it may have been from suspicion, but one 
evening a Carahimro took it into his head to 
try and examine one of the birds, and he 
noticed, as the gobbler opened its wings in 
running away, that there was a fair-sued 
package under each of them. Naturally a 
general scrutiny ensued* with the result 
that each member of the flock was found to 
have a parcel of tobacco, weighing about 
half a pound, tied under each wing. Need- 
less to say that since that time the import of 
live Spanish turkeys in Gibraltar is consider- 
ably reduced. 

One of the earlier four-legged smugglers 
was a fine large donkey, which used to pass 
to and from Gibraltar daily, under the care 
of an innocent ■ looking rustic* After the 




LMMi iiMLljC_.LfcL.HS IN 'JKAlNiAG. 

lapse of some time it was found out that 
this animal had been completely covered 
over with the skin of a dead donkey — that 
rarity of rarities — which was so well cut and 
so beautifully 
padded that it 

smugglers mentioned above it was 
necessary that a man should be in 
charge of them, and this, of course, 
was a considerable drawback. To 
obviate this disadvantage some 
genius conceived the idea of train- 
ing dogs in the wary and cautious 
habits necessary for successfully 
carrying on the contraband business, 
and one man had a dog who, like 
the donkey, had a double skin, with 
a quantity of tobacco placed between 
the false outer skin and the true 
inner one. This intelligent animal 
had been trained to play with other 
dogs, and so to get through the lines 
from the Rock, after which he went 
straight to his master's house to be 
unloaded, and sent off for a fresh 
consignment. In this manner he 
used to make several trips a day ; 
but, alas ! he, too, was eventually 
caught It is probable that this 
dog was only one of many which 
were used for the same purpose, so 
at least the Spanish Tobacco Com- 
[>any seem to have thought, for they 
have had a high fence of wire 
netting raised right across the 
isthmus from sea to sea, a distance 
of about a mile and a quarter, and 
thus the land smuggling dogs have 
been rendered useless. 

Of late years, owing both to this wire 
netting and to the assistance given by the 
authorities in Gibraltar to the Spanish 



per fee- 

examination re- 
vealed the fact 
that the padding 
was composed 
entirely of the for- 
bidden leaf, and 
as a result, the 
false skin has 
joined the Bible 
and the loaf in 
the Museum at 
Madrid, and the 
rustic and his 
flonkey no longer 
travel between 
Spain and Gib- 

In both the 
cases of animal 



9 6 


officials in suppressing the illicit trading on 
the neutral ground, the smuggling by dogs is 
carried on from a number of hulks, which 
are anchored in the Bay, opposite the English 
territory. On these hulks a number of men 
are occupied all day long in making up 
tobacco in small, convenient packages, tied 
up in waterproof paper. Towards sundown, 
men may be seen coming from la Linea in 
the direction of Gibraltar, accompanied by 
a suspicious number of dogs. Men and 
dogs all embark in a boat, and row, or are 
rowed, out to the hulks at anchor, and, once 
on board, the packages of tobacco are care- 
fully fastened around the bodies of the dogs 
and covered with sacking— as depicted in 
the illustration on the previous page — care 
being taken not to overload the animals. 

As soon as night falls the dogs are again 
placed in the boats, and are quietly rowed 
towards the Spanish shore, and w T hen a short 
distance from it, they are gently placed in 
the water at short intervals and left to swim 
ashore. The spot where 
this takes place is to be 
seen at the left of the 
illustration on the first 
page of this article, and 
the dogs land buyond the 
wire-netting which runs 
across the isthmus in front 
of the Spanish lines. 

Before being actually 
started on their smug- 
gling' career, the dogs 
undergo a course of train- 
ing, each being taken out 
for a walk in the country 
by his master; and a 
friend of the latter, 
dressed in an old Carahi- 
ntrds uniform, and armed 
with a bludgeon, hides 

himself somewhere on the route the dog and 
his owner intend to pursue. The dog is 
encouraged to go forward, and immediately 
he comes within reach of the hidden counter- 
feit officer, the latter catches hold of the 
animal, and gives him a sound drubbing 
with his weapon. After a few lessons of 
this kind the dog's intelligence teaches him 
to carefully avoid anybody dressed in the 
hated uniform, as he has souvenirs of wearers 
of it on every part of his body. 

But to return to the dogs we have left 
swimming in the surf: they nearly always 
reach the shore safely, and then they display 
almost more than human intelligence and 
cunning in avoiding the approach of the 
Carabineri^ hiding until the coast is clear, 
and then making a bolt for home as fast 
as their legs will carry them. The Cara- 
bineri y however, are in watch and wait, 
and in spite of the cleverness of the 
dogs, the snap of a rifle and a short 
" yap," showing that the bullet has gone 
home, often shows that 
the life of the smuggler 
dog has been cut short 
in his attempt to evade 
the law. 

While, as I have said, 
the trade is greatly de- 
creased, so long as there 
is any duty on tobacco 
in Spain, just so long 
will there be found men 
ready to evade it, and 
the only thing that will 
effectually stop it will be 
an export lax from Gib- 
raltar, which will double 
the difficulty of evading 
the Custom House, and 
make the game not worth 
the candle. 


by Google 

Original from 

iv* Wwcft^ 

Tw II 

^he. Cpisooe* 

* * ■ r- , 


PIT* * -^^ 

By Grant Allen. 

n a: 

|ET us take a trip to Switzer- 
land," said Lady Vandrift, 
And anyone who knows 
Amelia will not be surprised 
to learn that we did take a 
trip to Switzerland accord- 
ingly- Nobody can drive Sir Charles except 
his wife. And nobody at all can drive 

There were difficulties at the outset, be- 
cause we had not ordered rooms at the hotels 
beforehand^ and it was well on in the season ; 
but they were overcome at last by the usual 
application of a golden key ; and we found 
ourselves in due time pleasantly quartered in 
Lucerne, at that most comfortable of Euro- 
pean hostelries, the Schweitzerhof. 

We were a square party of four — Sir 
Charles and Amelia, myself and Isabel. 
We had nice big rooms, on the first floor, 
overlooking the lake, and as none of us was 
possessed with the faintest symptom of that 
incipient mania which shows itself in the 
form of an insane desire to climb mountain 
heights of disagreeable steepness and unneces- 
sary snowiness, I will venture to assert we all 
enjoyed ourselves* We spent most of our 
time sensibly in lounging about the lake on 
the jolly little steamers ; and when we did a 
mountain climb, it was on the Rigi or Pilatus 
— where an engine undertook all the muscular 
work for us. 

As usual, at the hotel, a great many miscel- 

laneous people showed a burning desire to 
be specially nice to us. If you wish to see 
how friendly and charming humanity is, just 
try being a well-known millionaire for a week, 
and you'll learn a thing or two. Wherever 
Sir Charles goes, he is surrounded by charm- 
ing and disinterested people, all eager to 
make his distinguished acquaintance, and all 
familiar with several excellent invesftnents, 
or several deserving objects of Christian 
charity. It is my business in life, as 
his brother-in-law and secretary, to decline 
with thanks the excellent investments, and 
to throw judicious cold water on the objects 
of charity. Even I myself, as the great man's 
■ aim oner , am very much sought after. 
People casually allude before me to artless 
stories of " poor curates in Cumberland, you 
know, Mr. Went worth," or widows in Corn- 
wall, penniless poets with epics in their desks, 
and young painters who need but the breath 
of a patron to open to them the doors of an 
admiring Academy, I smile and look wise, 
while I administer cold water in minute 
doses ; but I never report one of these cases 
to Sir Charles, except in the rare or almost 
unheard-of event where I think there is really 
something in them. 

Ever since our little adventure with the 
Seer at Nice, Sir Charles, who is constitution- 
ally cautious, had been even more careful 
than usual about possible sharpers. And, as 
chance would have it, there sat just opposite 


9 8 


us at table d'hote at the Schweitzerhof — *tis a 
fad of Amelia's to dine at table d'hSie ; she 
says she can't bear to be boxed up all day in 
private rooms with "too much family" — a 
sinister-looking man with dark hair and eyes, 
conspicuous by his bushy, overhanging eye- 
brows. My attention was first called to the 
eyebrows in question by a nice little parson 
who sat at our side, and who observed that 
they were made up of certain large and bristly 
hairs, which (he told us) had been traced by 
Darwin to our monkey ancestors* Very 
pleasant little fellow, this fresh-faced young 
parson, on his honeymoon tour with a nice 
wee wife, a bonnie Scotch lassie with a 
charming accent. 

I looked at the eyebrows close. Then a 
sudden thought struck me. " Do you believe 
they're his own ? " I asked of the curate ; ** or 
are they only stuck on— a 
make - up disguise ? They 
really almost look like it," 

"You don't suppose— — M 
Charles began, and checked 
himself suddenly. 

" Yes, I do/' I answered : 
" the Seer ! " Then I recol- 
lected my blunder, and looked 
down sheepishly. For, to 
say the truth, Vandrift had 
straightly enjoined on me 
long before to say nothing of 
our painful little episode at 
Nice to Amelia ; he was 
afraid if she once heard of it, 
he would hear of it for ever 

"What Seer?" the little 
parson inquired, with parsoni- 
cal curiosity, 

I noticed the man with the 
overhanging eyebrows give a 
queer sort of start. Charles's 
glance was fixed upon me, 
I hardly knew what to answer. 

"Oh, a man who was at 
Nice with us last year," I 
stammered out, trying hard 
to look unconcerned. "A 
fellow they talked about, 
that's all/' And I turned the 

But the curate, like a donkey, wouldn't let 
me turn it 

"Had he eyebrows like that? Jt he in- 
quired, in an undertone- I was really 
angry. If this was Colonel Clay, the curate 
was obviously giving him the cue, and making 
it much more difficult for us to catch him. 

now we might possibly have lighted on the 
chance of doing so, 

"No, he hadn't," I answered, testily; ** it 
was a passing expression. But this is not 
the mam I was mistaken, no doubt." And 
I nudged him gently. 

The little curate was too innocent for 
anything. " Oh, I see," he replied, nodding 
hard and looking wise, Then he turned to 
his wife, and made an obvious face, which 
the man with the eyebrows couldn't fail to 

Fortunately, a political discussion going on 
a few places further down the tabic spread up 
to us and diverted attention for a moment* 
The magical name of Gladstone saved us. Sir 
Charles flared up + I was truly pleased, for I 
could see Amelia was boiling over with 
curiosity by this time. 


After dinner, in the billiard-room, however, 
the man with the big eyebrows sidled up and 
began to talk to me, If he was Colonel 
Clay, it was evident he bore us no grudge at 
all for the five thousand pounds he had done 
us out of* On the contrary, he seemed 
quite prepared to do us out of five thousand 




more when opportunity offered ; for he 
introduced himself at once as Dr. Hector 
Macpherson, the exclusive grantee of exten- 
sive concessions from the Brazilian Govern- 
ment on the Upper Amazons. He dived into 
conversation with me at once as to the 
splendid mineral resources of his Brazilian 
estate — the silver, the platinum, the actual 
rubies, the possible diamonds. I listened 
and smiled ; I knew what was coming. All 
he needed to develop this magnificent con- 
cession was a little more capital. It was 
sad to see thousands of pounds' worth of 
platinum and car-loads of rubies just 
crumbling in the soil or carried away by the 
river, for want of a few hundreds to work 
them with properly. If he knew of anybody, 
now, with money to invest, he could recom- 
mend him — nay, offer him — a unique 
opportunity of earning, say, 40 per cent, on 
his capital, on unimpeachable security. 

" I wouldn't do it for every man," Dr. 
Hector Macpherson remarked, drawing him- 
self up ; " but if I took a fancy to a fellow 
who had command of ready cash, I might 
choose to put him in the way of feathering 
his nest with unexampled rapidity." 

" Exceedingly disinterested of you," I 
answered, drily, fixing my eyes on his eye- 

The little curate, meanwhile, was playing 
billiards with Sir Charles. His glance 
followed mine as it rested for a moment on 
the monkey-like hairs. 

11 False, obviously false," he remarked with 
his lips ; and I'm bound to confess I never 
saw any man speak so well by movement 
alone ; you could follow every word, though 
not a sound escaped him. 

During the rest of that evening, Dr. 
Hector Macpherson stuck to me as close as 
a mustard-plaster. And he was almost as 
irritating. I got heartily sick of the Upper 
Amazons. I have positively waded in my 
time through ruby mines (in prospectuses, I 
mean) till the mere sight of a ruby absolutely 
sickens me. When Charles, in an unwonted 
fit of generosity, once gave his sister Isabel 
(whom I had the honour to marry) a ruby neck- 
let (inferior stones), I made Isabel change it 
for sapphires and amethysts, on the judicious 
plea that they suited her complexion better. 
(I scored one, incidentally, for having con- 
sidered Isabel's complexion.) By the time 
I went to bed I was prepared to sink the 
Upper Amazons in the sea, and to stab, 
shoot, poison, or otherwise seriously damage 
the* man with the concession and the false 

For the next three days, at intervals, he 
returned to the charge. He bored me to 
death with his platinum and his rubies. He 
didn't want a capitalist who would personally 
exploit the thing ; he would prefer to do it 
all on his own account, giving the capitalist 
preference debentures of his bogus company, 
and a lien on the concession. I listened and 
smiled ; I listened and yawned ; I listened 
and was rude ; I ceased to listen at all ; but 
still, he droned on with it. I fell asleep on 
the steamer one day, and woke up in ten 
minutes to hear him droning yet : " And the 
yield of platinum per ton was certified to 

be " I forget how many pounds, or 

ounces, or pennyweights. These details of 
assays have ceased to interest me ; like the 
man who c< didn't believe in ghosts," I have 
seen too many of them. 

The fresh-faced little curate and his wife, 
however, were quite different people. He 
was a cricketing Oxford man ; she was a 
breezy Scotch lass, with a wholesome breath 
of the Highlands about her. I called her 
" White Heather." Their name was Brabazon. 
Millionaires are so accustomed to being beset 
by harpies of every description, that when 
they come across a young couple who are 
simple and natural, they delight in the purely 
human relation. We picnicked and went 
excursions a great deal with the honey- 
mooners. They were so frank in their 
young love, and so proof against chaff, that 
we all really liked them. But whenever I 
called the pretty girl " White Heather," she 
looked so shocked, and cried : " Oh, Mr. 
Went worth ! " Still, we were the best of 
friends. The curate offered to row us in a 
boat on the lake one day, while the Scotch 
lassie assured us she could take an oar 
almost as well as he did. However, we did 
not accept their offer, as row-boats exert 
an unfavourable influence upon Amelia's 
digestive organs. 

u Nice young fellow, that man Brabazon," 
Sir Charles said to me one day, as we lounged 
together along the quay ; " never talks about 
advowsons or next presentations. Doesn't 
seem to me to care two pins about promotion. 
Says he's quite content in his country curacy ; 
enough to live upon, and needs no more ; 
and his wife has a little, a very little, money. 
I asked him about his poor to-day, on pur- 
pose to test him : these parsons are always 
trying to screw something out of one for 
their poor ; men in my position know the 
truth of the saying that we have that class of 
the population always with us. Would you 
believe it, he says he hasn't any poor at all 




in his parish ! They're all well - to - do 
farmers or else able - bodied labourers, 
and his one terror is that somebody will come 
and try to pauperize them. * If a philan- 
thropist were to give me fifty pounds to-day 
for use at Empingham,' he said, i I assure 
you, Sir Charles, I shouldn't know what to 
do with it. I think I should buy new dresses 
for Jessie, who wants them about as much as 
anybody else in the village — that is to say, 
not at all.' There's a parson for you, Sey, 
my boy. Only wish we had one of his sort 
at Seldon." 

" He certainly doesn't want to get anything 
out of you," I answered. 

That evening at dinner, a queer little 
episode happened. The man with the eye- 
brows began talking to me across the table in 
his usual fashion, full of his wearisome con- 
cession on the Upper Amazons. I was trying 
to squash him as politely as possible, when I 
caught Amelia's eye. Her look amused me. 
She was engaged in making signals to Charles 
at her side to observe the little curate's 
curious sleeve-links. I glanced at them, and 
saw at once they were a singular possession for 
so unobtrusive a person. They consisted each 
of a short gold bar for one arm of the link, 
fastened by a tiny chain of the same material 
to what seemed to my tolerably experienced 
eye — a first-rate diamond. Pretty big 
diamonds, too, and of remarkable shape, 
brilliancy, and cutting. In a moment, I 
knew what Amelia meant She owned a 
diamond riviere, said to be of Indian 
origin, but short by two stones for the 
circumference of her tolerably ample neck. 
Now, she had long been wanting two dia- 
monds like these to match her set ; but owing 
to the unusual shape and antiquated cutting 
of her own gems, she had never been able to 
complete the necklet, at least without remov- 
ing an extravagant amount from a much 
larger stone of the first water. 

The Scotch lassie's eyes caught Amelia's 
at the same time, and she broke into a pretty 
smile of good-humoured amusement. " Taken 
in another person, Dick, dear ! " she exclaimed, 
in her breezy way, turning to her husband. 
" Lady Vandrift is observing your diamond 

" They're very fine gems," Amelia observed, 
incautiously. (A most unwise admission, if 
she desired to buy them.) 

But the pleasant little curate was too 
transparently simple a soul to take advantage 
of her slip of judgment. " They are good 
stones," he replied ; " very good stones — 
considering. They're not diamonds at 

Digiiiz&d by ^OOQ It 

all, to tell you the truth. They're best old- 
fashioned Oriental paste. My great-grand- 
father bought them, after the siege of 
Seringapatam, for a few rupees, from a Sepoy 
who had looted them from Tippoo Sultan's 
palace. He thought, like you, he had got a 
good thing. But it turned out, when they 
came to be examined by experts, they were 
only paste — very wonderful paste ; it is 
supposed they had even imposed upon 
Tippoo himself, so fine is the imitation. 
But they are worth — well, say, fifty shillings 
at the utmost." 

While he spoke, Charles looked at Amelia, 
and Amelia looked at Charles. Their eyes 
spoke volumes. The riviire was also sup- 
posed to have come from Tippoo's collection. 
Both drew at once an identical conclusion. 
These were two of the same stones, very 
likely torn apart and disengaged from the 
rest in the melee at the capture of the Indian 

"Can you take them off?" Sir Charles 
asked, blandly. He spoke in the tone that 
indicates business. 

" Certainly," the little curate answered, 
smiling. " I'm accustomed to taking them 
off. They're always noticed. They've been 
kept in the family ever since the siege, as a 
sort of valueless heirloom, for the sake of 
the picturesqueness of the story, you know ; 
and nobody ever sees them without asking, 
as you do, to examine them closely. They 
deceive even experts at first. But they're 
paste, all the same ; unmitigated Oriental 
paste, for all that." 

He took them both off, and handed them 
to Charles. No man in England is a finer 
judge of gems than my brother-in-law. I 
watched him narrowly. He examined them 
close, first with the naked eye, then with the 
little pocket-lens which he always carries. 
" Admirable imitation," he muttered, passing 
them on to Amelia. " I'm not surprised 
they should impose upon inexperienced 

But from the tone in which he said it, I 
could see at once he had satisfied himself 
they were real gems of unusual value. I 
know Charles's way of doing business so 
well. His glance to Amelia meant, " These 
are the very stones you have so long been in 
search of." 

The Scotch lassie laughed a merry laugh. 
" He sees through them now, Dick," she 
cried. " I felt sure Sir Charles would be a 
judge of diamonds." 

Amelia turned them over. I know Amelia, 
too ; and I knew from the way Amelia looked 




at them that she meant to have them. And 
when Amelia means to have anything, people 
who stand in the way may just as well spare 
themselves the trouble of opposing her. 

They were beautiful diamonds. We found 
out afterwards the little cu rate's account was 
quite correct : these stones had come from 
the same necklet as Amelia's riviire^ made for 
a favourite wife of Tippoo's, who had pre- 
sumably as expansive personal charms as our 
beloved sister-in-law's. More perfect diamonds 
have seldom been seen* They have excited 
the universal admiration of thieves and con- 
noisseurs, Amelia told me afterwards that, 
according to legend, a Sepoy stole the necklet 
at the sack of the palace, and then fought 
with another for it. It was believed that two 
stones got spilt in the scuffle, and were picked 
up and sold by a third person— a looker-on — 
who had no if Km of the value of his booty- 
Amelia had been hunting for them for several 
years, to complete her necklet. 

" They are excellent paste," Sir Charles 
observed, handing them back, ( * It takes a 
first-rate judge to detect them from the reality. 
I^dy Vandrift has a necklet much the same 
in character, but composed of genuine stones; 
and as these are so much like them, and 
would complete her set, to all outer appear- 
once, I wouldn't mind giving you, say, ^10 
for the pair of them." 

Mrs, Brabazon looked delighted. " Oh, 
sell them to him, Dick," she cried, " and buy 
me a brooch with the money ! A pair of 
common links would do for you just as well 
Ten pounds for 
two paste stones ! 
It's quite a lot of 

She said it so 
sweetly, with her 

earrings ; and as soon as she died, I had 
them set as links in order that I might 
always keep them about me. Besides, they 
have historical and family interest. Even a 
worthless heirloom, after all, is an heirloom." 

Dr. Hector Macpherson looked across and 
intervened. "There is a part of my conces- 
sion/ 5 he said, ** where we have reason to 
believe a perfect new Kimberley will soon be 
discovered If at any time you would care, 
Sir Charles, to look at my diamonds — when 
I get them — it would afford me the greatest 
pleasure in life to submit them to your con- 

Sir Charles could stand it no longer, 
* £ Sir," he said, gazing across at him with his 
sternest air, ** if your concession were as full 
of diamonds as Sindbad the Sailor's valley, I 
would not care to turn my head to look at 
them, I am acquainted with the nature and 
practice of salting." And he glared at the 
man with the overhanging eyebrows as if he 
would devour him raw. Poor Dr + Hector 
Macpherson subsided instantly. We learnt 
a little later that he was a harmless lunatic, 
who went about the world with successive 
concessions for ruby mines and platinum 
reefs, because he had been ruined and 
driven mad by speculations in the two, and 
now recouped himself by imaginary grants in 
Burmah and Brazil, or anywhere else that 
turned up handy. And his eyebrows, after 
all, were of Nature's handicraft. We were 
sorry for the incident; but a man in Sir 
Charles's position is such a mark for rogues 


that I 

couldn't imagine 
how Dick had the 
heart to refuse 
her. But he did, 
all the same, 

**No, Jess, dar- 
ling," he answered. 
t£ They're worth- 
less, I know j but 
they have for me 
a certain senti- 
mental value, as 
I've often told 
you, My dear 
mother wore them, 
while she lived, as 







that, if he did not take means to protect him- 
self promptly, he would be for ever overrun 
by them. 

When we went up to our salon that evening, 
Amelia flung herself on the sofa. " Charles," 
she broke out in the voice of a tragedy queen, 
"those are real diamonds, and I shall never 
be happy again till I get them." 

"They are real diamonds," Charles echoed 
"And you shall have them, Amelia, 
They're worth not less than three thousand 
pounds. But I shall bid them up gently." 

So, next day, Charles set to work to higgle 
with the curate. Brabazon, however, didn't 
care to part with them- He was no money- 
grubber, he said. He cared more for his 
mother's gift and a family tradition than for 
a hundred pounds, if Sir Charles were to 
offer it Charles's eye gleamed. "But if I 
give you hv& hundred ! " he said, insinuatingly* 
" What opportunities for good ! You could 
build a new wing to your village school- 
house ! " 

"We have ample accommodation," the 
curate answered. ** No, I don't think FU 
sell them. 11 

Still, his voice faltered somewhat, and he 
looked down at them inquiringly, 

Charles was £00 precipitate. 

"A hundred pounds more or less matters 
little to me," he said ; "and my wife has set 
her heart on them. It J s every man's duty to 
please his wife — isn't it, Mrs, Brabazon? — I 
offer you three 

The little Scotch 
girl clasped her 

"Three hun- 
dred pounds ! Oh, 
Dick, just think 
what fun we could 
have, and what 
good we could do 
with it! Do let 
him have them," 

Her accent was 
irresistible. But 
the curate shook 
his head, 

" Impossible," 
he answered, 
" My dear mother's 
earrings.! Uncle 
Aubrey would be 
so angry if he knew 
I'd sold them. I 
daren't face Uncle 

" Has he expectations from Uncle Aubrey? " 
Sir Charles asked of White Heather. 

Mrs. Brabazon laughed. ** Uncle Aubrey ! 
Oh, dear, no. Poor dear old Uncle Aubrey ! 
Why, the darling old soul hasn't a penny to 
bless himself with, except his pension. He's 
a retired post captain." And she laughed 
melodiously. She was a charming woman. 

"Then I should disregard Uncle Aubrey's 
feelings," Sir Charles said, decisively, 

"No, no," the curate answered. "Poor 
dear old Uncle Aubrey ! I wouldn't do any- 
thing for the world to annoy him. And he'd 
be sure to notice it." 

We went back to Amelia. il Well, have 
you got them ? " she asked. 

" No," Sir Charles answered, " Not yet. 
But he's coming round, I think. He's 
hesitating now. Would rather like to sell 
them himself, but is afraid what ' Uncle 
Aubrey 7 would say about the matter. His 
wife will talk him out of his needless con- 
sideration for Uncle Aubrey's feelings ; and 
to-morrow we'll finally clench the bargain." 

Next morning we stayed late in our $aion r 
where we always breakfasted, and did not 
come down to the public rooms till just 
before dejeumr^ Sir Charles being busy with 
me over arrears of correspondence. When 
we did come down, the converge stepped 
forward with a twisted little feminine note 
for Amelia. She took it and read it Her 
countenance felL "There, Charles," she 






cried, handing it to him, "you've let the 
chance slip. I shall never be happy now ! 
They've gone off with the diamonds." 

Charles seized the note and read it. Then 
he passed it on to me. It was short, but 
final : — 

"Thursday, 6 a.m. 

" Dear Lady Vandrift, 

" Will you kindly excuse our having gone 
off hurriedly without bidding you good-bye ? 
We have just had a horrid telegram to say 
that Dick's favourite sister is dangerously ill 
of fever in Paris. I wanted to shake hands 
with you before we left — you have all been 
so sweet to us — but we go by the morning 
train, absurdly early, and I wouldn't for 
worlds disturb you. Perhaps some day we 
may meet again — though, buried as we are in 
a North-country village, it isn't likely ; but in 
any case, you have secured the grateful 
recollection of 

" Yours very cordially, 

"Jessie Brabazon. 

" P.S. — Kindest regards to Sir Charles and 
those dear Wentworths, and a kiss for your- 
self, if I may venture to send you one." 

" She doesn't even mention where they've 
gone," Amelia exclaimed, in a very bad 

"The concierge may know," Isabel sug- 
gested, looking over my shoulder. 

We asked at his office. 

Yes, the gentleman's address was the Rev. 
Richard Peploe Brabazon, Holme Bush 
Cottage, Empingham, Northumberland. 

Any address where letters might be sent at 
once, in Paris ? 

For the next ten days, or till further notice, 
Hotel des Deux Mondes, Avenue de 

Amelia's mind was made up at once. 

" Strike while the iron's hot," she cried. 
"This sudden illness, coming at the end of 
their honeymoon, and involving ten days' 
more stay at an expensive hotel, will probably 
upset the curate's budget He'll be glad to 
sell now. You'll get them for three hundred. 
It was absurd of Charles to offer so much at 
first; but offered once, of course we must 
stick to it." 

" What do you propose to do ? " Charles 
asked. " Write, or telegraph ? " 

" Oh, how silly men are ! " Amelia cried. 
" Is this the sort of business to be arranged 
by letter, still less by telegram ? No. 
Seymour must start off at once, taking the 
night train to Paris ; and the moment he gets 
there, he must interview the curate or Mrs. 
Brabazon. Mrs. Brabazon's the best. She 

has none of this stupid, sentimental nonsense 
about Uncle Aubrey." 

It is no part of a secretary's duties to act 
as a diamond broker. But when Amelia 
puts her foot down, she puts her foot down 
— a fact which she is unnecessarily fond of 
emphasizing in that identical proposition. 
So the self-same evening saw me safe in the 
train on my way to Paris ; and next morning 
I turned out of my comfortable sleeping-car 
at the Gare de Strasbourg. My orders were 
to bring back those diamonds, alive or dead, 
so to speak, in my pocket, to Lucerne ; and 
to offer any needful sum, up to two thousand 
five hundred pounds, for their immediate 

When I arrived at the Deux Mondes, 
I found the poor little curate and his wife 
both greatly agitated. They had sat up all 
night, they said, with their invalid sister ; 
and the sleeplessness and suspense had 
certainly told upon them after their long 
railway journey. They were pale and tired ; 
Mrs. Brabazon in particular looking ill and 
worried — too much like White Heather. I 
was more than half ashamed of bothering 
them about the diamonds at such a moment ; 
but it occurred to me that Amelia was pro- 
bably right ; they would now have reached 
the end of the sum set apart for their Con- 
tinental trip ; and a little ready cash might be 
far from unwelcome. 

I broached the subject delicately. It was 
a fad of Lady Vandrift's, I said. She had 
set her heart upon those useless trinkets. 
And she wouldn't eo without them. She 
must and would have them. But the curate 
was obdurate. He threw Uncle Aubrey still 
in my teeth. Three hundred? — no, never! 
A mother's present ; impossible, dear Jessie ! 
Jessie begged and prayed ; she had grown 
really attached to Lady Vandrift, she said ; 
but the curate wouldn't hear of it. I went 
up tentatively to four hundred. He shook 
his head gloomily. It wasn't a question of 
money, he said. It was a question of affec- 
tion. I saw it was no use trying that tack any 
longer. I struck out a new line. "These 
stones," I said, " I think I ought to inform 
you, are really diamonds. Sir Charles is 
certain of it. Now, is it right for a man of 
your profession and position to be wearing a 
pair of big gems like those, worth several 
hundred pounds, as ordinary sleeve-links ? 
A woman ? Yes, I grant you ; but for a 
man, is it manly ? And you a cricketer ! " 

He looked at me and laughed. " Will 
nothing convince you ? " he cried. " They 
have been examined and tested by half-a- 




dozen jewellers, and we know them to be 
paste. It wouldn't be right of me to sell 
them to you under false pretences, however 
unwilling on my side. I couldn't do it." 

u Well, then," I said, going up a bit in my 
bids to meet him; "I'll put it like this. 
These gems are paste. But Ijady Vandrift 
has an unconquerable and unaccountable 
desire to possess them. Money doesn't 
matter to her. She is a friend of your wife's. 
As a personal favour, won't you sell them to 
her for a thousand ? JJ 

He shook his head* "It would be wrong," 
he said — " I might even add, criminal." 

" But we take all risk," I cried. 

He was absolute adamant. " As a clergy- 
man," he answered, " I feel I cannot do it." 

" Willow try, Mrs. Bcabazon ? " I asked. 

The pretty little Scotchwoman leant over 
and whispered. She coaxed and cajoled 
him. Her ways were winsome. I couldn't 
hear what she said ; but he seemed to give 
way at last. " I should love Lady Vandrift 
to have them," she murmured, turning to me. 

The curate looked up as if ashamed of 

"I consent," he said, slowly, "since Jessie 
washes it But as a clergyman, and to pre- 
vent any future misunderstanding, I should 
like you to give me a statement in writing 
that you buy them on my distinct and positive 
declaration that they are made of paste — old 
Oriental paste — not genuine stones, and that 
I do not claim any other qualities for 

I popped the gems into my purse, well 

"Certainly/* I said, pulling out a paper. 
Charles, with his unerring business instinct, 
had anticipated the request, and given me a 
signed agreement to that effect. 

"You will take a cheque? " I inquired. 

He hesitated, 

" Notes of the Bank of France would suit 
me better," he answered. 

" Very well/' I replied. "I will go out 
and get them." 

How very unsuspicious some people are 1 


11 She is such a dear 1 " And she took out 
the links from her husband's cuffs and handed 
them across to me. 

** How much ? * I asked 

"Two thousand?" she answered, interro- 
gatively. It was a big rise, all at once ; but 
such are the ways of women. 

" Done ! '■ I replied. " Do you con- 
sent ? " 

by L^OOgle 

He allowed me to go off — with the stones in 
my pocket ! 

Sir Charles had given me a blank cheque, 
not exceeding two thousand five, hundred 
pounds. I took it to our agents and cashed 
it for notes of the Bank of France. The 
curate clasped them with pleasure. And 
right glad I was to go back to Lucerne that 
night, feeling that I had got those diamonds 



l0 $ 


into my hands for about a thousand pounds 
under their real value ! 

At Lucerne railway station Amelia met 
me. She was positively agitated. 

" Have you bought them, Seymour ? " she 

u Yes," I answered, producing my spoils 
in triumph, 

"Oh, how dreadful!" she cried, drawing 
back. " Do you think they're real ? Are 
you sure be hasn't cheated you ? n 

" Certain of it," I replied, examining them, 
" No one can take me in, in the matter of 
diamonds. Why on earth should you doubt 

" Because I've been talking to Mrs. 
O'Hagan, at the hotel, and she says there's 
a well-known trick just like that — she's read 
of it in a book, A swindler has two sets, 
one real, one false ; and he makes you buy 
the false ones by showing you the real, and 
pretending he sells them as a special favour." 

"You needn't he alarmed," I answered 
" I am a judge of diamonds." 

" I sha'n't be satisfied," Amelia murmured* 
" till Charles has seen i-hem." 

We went up to the hotel 37 :r the first 
time in her life, I saw Amelia really nervous 

Vol. xiL-14. 

by L^OOgle 

as I handed the stones to 
Charles to examine. Her 
doubt was contagious* I half 
feared, myself, he might break 
out into a deep monosyllabic 
interjection, losing his temper 
in haste, as he often does when 
things go wrong. But he looked 
at them with a smile, while I 
told him the price, 

" Eight hundred pounds less 
than their value," he answered, 
well satisfied. 

" You have no doubt of 
their reality?" I asked 

" Not the slightest, 31 he re- 
plied, gazing at them, " They 
are genuine stones, precisely 
the same in quality and type 
as Amelia's necklet" 

Amelia drew a sigh of relief. 

M I'll go upstairs," she said, 

slowly* "and bring down my 

own for you both to compare 

"\| > with them." 

One minute later, she rushed 
down again, breathless. Amelia 
is far from slim, and I never 
before knew her exert herself 
so actively. 

11 Charles, Charles ! " she 
cried, :t do you know what dreadful thing has 
happened ? Two of my own stones are gone. 
He's stolen a couple of diamonds from my 
necklet, and sold them back to me." 

She held out the riviere. It was all too 
true. Two gems were missing — and these 
two just fitted the empty places ! 

A light broke in upon me. I clapped my 
hand to my head, *' By Jove," I exclaimed, 
" the little curate is — Colonel Clay ! " 

Charles clapped his own hand to his brow 
in turn, "And Jessie," he cried, "White 
Heather — that innocent little Scotchwoman ! 
I often detected a familiar ring in her voice, 
in spite of the charming Highland accent, 
Jessie is — Madame Picardet ! " 

We had absolutely no evidence ; but, like 
the Commissary at Nice, we felt instinctively 
sure of it. 

Sir Charles was determined to catch the 
rogue* This second deception put him on 
his mettle. "The worst of the man is," he 
said, " he has a method He doesn't go out 
of his way to cheat us ; he makes us go out 
Gi ours to be cheated. He lays a trap, and 
we tumble headlong into it. To-morrow, 
Sey, we must follow him on to Paris/' 

Amelia explained to him what Mrs t 
Original from 




O'Hagan had said. Charles took it all in 
at once, with his usual sagacity. "That 
explains," he said, " why the rascal used this 
particular trick to draw us on by. If we 
had suspected him, he could have shown 
the diamonds were real, and so escaped 
detection. It was a blind to draw us off from 
the fact of the robbery. He went to Paris to 
be out of the way when the discovery was 
made, and to get a clear day's start of us. 
What a consummate rogue ! And to do me 
twice running ! " 

" How did he get at my jewel - case, 
though ? " Amelia exclaimed. 

11 That's the question," Charles answered. 
" You do leave it about so ! " 

"And why didn't he steal the whole 
riv&re at once, and sell the gems?" I 

"Too cunning," Charles replied. "This 
was much better business. It isn't easy to 
dispose of a big thing like that. In the first 
place, the stones are large and valuable ; in 
the second place, they're well known — every 
dealer has heard of the Vandrift rivitre, and 
seen pictures of the shape of them. They're 
marked gems, so to speak. No, he played a 
better game — took a couple of them off, and 
offered them to the only one person on earth 
who was likely to buy them without suspicion. 
He came here, meaning to work this very 
trick ; he had the links made right to the 
shape beforehand, and then he stole the 
stones and slipped them into their places. 
It's a wonderfully clever trick. Upon my 
soul, I almost admire the fellow." 

For Charles is a business man himself, and 
can appreciate business capacity in others. 

How Colonel Clay came to know about 
that necklet, and to appropriate two of the 
stones, we only discovered much later. I 
will not here anticipate that disclosure. One 
thing at a time is a good rule in life. For 
the moment, he succeeded in baffling us 

However, we followed him on to Paris, 
telegraphing beforehand to the Bank of 
France to stop the notes. It was all in vain. 
They had been cashed within half an hour 

of my paying them. The curate and his 
wife, we found, quitted the Hotel des Deux 
Mondes for parts unknown that same after- 
noon. And, as usual with Colonel Clay, 
they vanished into space, leaving no clue 
behind them. In other words, they changed 
their disguise, no doubt, and reappeared 
somewhere else that night in altered 
characters. At any rate, no such person as 
the Reverend Richard Peploe Brabazon was 
ever afterwards heard of— and, for the matter 
of that, no such village exists as Empingham, 

We communicated the matter to the 
Parisian police. They were most unsympa- 
thetic "It is, no doubt, Colonel Clay," 
said the official whom we saw ; " but you 
seem to have little just ground of complaint 
against him. As far as I can see, messieurs, 
there is not much to choose between you. 
You, Monsieur le Chevalier, desired to buy 
diamonds at the price of paste. You, 
madame, feared you had bought paste at the 
price of diamonds. You, monsieur the 
secretary, tried to get the stones from an un- 
suspecting person for half their value. He 
took you all in, that brave Colonel Caout- 
chouc — it was diamond cut diamond." 

Which was true, no doubt, but by no 
means consoling. 

We returned to the Grand Hotel. Charles 
was fuming with indignation. " This is really 
too much," he exclaimed. " What an auda- 
cious rascal ! But he will never again take 
me in, my dear Sey. I only hope he'll try it 
on. I should love to catch him. I'd know 
him another time, I'm sure, in spite of his 
disguises. It's absurd my being tricked 
twice running like this. But never again 
while I live ! Never again, I declare to 
you ! " 

"Jamais de la vie/" a courier in the hall 
close by murmured responsive. We stood 
under the veranda of the Grand Hotel, in 
the big glass courtyard. And I verily believe 
that courier was really Colonel Clay himself 
in one of his disguises. 

But perhaps we were beginning to suspect 
him everywhere. 

by Google 

Original from 

The New Photography. 

By Alfred \\\ Porter, B.8c. 
Fttl&w and Assistant- Professor of Physics % University College ', London, 

HE New Photography is more 
than two years old. At the 
beginning of the year 1894 
Lenard, at Bonn, showed that 
it was possible to obtain 
- 1 H shadows " of objects through 
optically opaque substances^ and to produce 
an impress of these *' shadows" on photo- 
graphic plates which could afterwards be 
developed and fixed by ordinary photographic 

So modestly was the fact announced, in the 
midst of other and more striking statements, 
that even those who read his paper upon its 
publication had well-nigh forgotten that such 
photographs had been obtained by him, 
when their attention was called afresh to 
the subject by the announcement (in January 
of ihis year) of a much more sensational fact 
by Professor Rontgen, of Wiirzburg — viz., 
that by similar means it is possible to photo- 
graph the skeleton of an animal while it is 
still alive. Professor Rontgen's publication 
— pregnant as it was with the possibility of 
important practical applications — was the 
herald of an enormous amount of activity in 
the phy si co-medical world ; while certain 
paradoxical properties (announced at the same 
time) of the agent by which the photographs 
are obtained, afforded a rare stimulus to 
experimental work by physicists in the exer- 
cise ol their true function as inquirers into 
the secrets of Nature. 
It is not possible 
in this place to nar- 
rate all the scientific 
details connected 
with this subject ; 
but to make the pro- 
cess plain to you a 
few brief semi -scien- 
tific paragraphs are 

Take an ordinary 
medical or " shock- 
ing " coil, with its 
electric battery, and 
imagine both made 
so much larger that 
the apparatus is no 
longer convenient 
for producing com- 
fortable shocks. If 
the terminals which 
you usually catch 
hold of (in the 

smaller coils) are brought very close to- 
gether, you will probably see a small spark 
passing between them ; and even with only 
moderately large coils it is easy in this way 
to obtain electric sparks (miniature lightning 
flashes) several inches long, A spark ;jin. 
long is very good for our purpose. This 
spark is produced by the electric current 
tearing its way through the intermediate air 

Now imagine the coil terminals imbedded 
in the ends of a glass tube from which the 
air can be gradually withdrawn by means of 
an air-pump, As the exhaustion proceeds, a 
series of remarkable changes is passed 
through. At a particular stage the spark has 
lost its sharp, lightning-like character* and a 
reddish glow of light spreads through almost 
the whole extent of the tube, Near one 
terminal (called the negative terminal) a non- 
luminous space is seen, while the terminal itself 
is coated with a blue, velvet-like glow. As the 
amount of air present becomes still less, a stage 
is at last reached when the red light disappears, 
and in the meantime the appearances near 
the negative terminal have become increasingly 
prominent From this terminal a very faint 
glow of blue light may be seen spreading. 
It has been shown to represent the path of a 
stream of particles of gas which dart away 
with prodigious velocity in a direction always 
perpendicular to the negative pole. This is 
the famous negative stream. If a solid 


FIG* I.— APfAkATfS FOJt RGftTC£H i'UOltiOLtArilY* 




object is placed in the path of this 
stream, several things may happen : ist f 
it may get hot; 2nd, it may get bright — 
shining with a green or blue glow, according 
to the material of which it is made ; 3rd, it 
may become the seat of the production of 
that which is the instrument in the hands or 
the "New" photographer, and which is 
variously known as Rontgen radiation or X- 
radiation. At the solid object the new 
radiation springs into being, and then travels 
away from ii. in all directions, in wry much 
the same way that ordinary light would do« 

Tubes in which this new phenomenon may 
arise have been in use in all physical labora- 
tories for nearly twenty-five years. In the 
majority of them the negative stream first 
strikes against the glass walls, and these walls 
constitute the source of the active rays. But 
a far more efficient form has been used by a 
few experimentalists from the beginning, and 
now — since it has been put on the market — 
is used by every worker in Great Britain. In 
this tube (it is a spherical tufa, by the way, and 
we shall hence- 
forth call it a bulb) 
the negative ter~ 
minal is made of 
a saucer - shape, 
and the paths of 
the stream of par- 
ticles starting from 
it all meet at a 
point near the 
centre of the bulb. 
At this point a 
disc of platinum 
is placed, and this 
serves both as the 
second terminal 
and as the source 
of the new rays. 
The bulb is called 
a " focus-tube," 
Amongst those 
who recognised 
the great superi- 
ority of this form 
of bulb were l J ro- 
f e s s o r Hicks, 

F.R.S., of Sheffield ; Mr* Herbert Jackson, 
of King's College, London ; and myself. 
The first to show in public a bulb of this 
character was, I believe, myself, viz., in a 
lecture delivered at University College, on 
January 29th ; and on February 13th, in a 
discussion at the Royal Society, I first 
described the bulb in connection with an 
experiment demonstrating that a point on 

the platinum disc acted as the source of tin 

In what manner is this radiation employed 
in the New Photography? 

If we hold a lighted taper above a sheet 
of paper* rays stream out in every direction, 
and where they strike the paper illuminate it. 
Now interpose an opaque object between the 
taper and paper screen : it will prevent the 
light from falling on certain portions of the 
paper, which will, thereforej remain dark — *>., 
the object casts a shadow. This shadow has 
sharper edges the smaller the source of light 
is and the nearer the object is to the paper. 

Replace the taper by the platinum disc of 
the active bulb. Radiation (of the new kind) 
streams from it in every direction on one side 
of the disc, and if the interposed object be 
opaque to the rays it will again cast a shadow 
on a screen which is placed in their path ; 
but in this case it is usually an invisible 
shadow, for the new radiation cannot be seen 
by the eye- 
Two ways are known of showing that the 


Ftum a f'kvtv. hjf Sir. &ptisrt r 

shadow is there. If a screen coated with 
crystals of potassium platino cyanide receives 
the rays, it glows blue wkcrei^r the rays falL 
Such a screen then will reveal the presence 
of the shadow, for it will glow least where 
fewest rays fall It is called a fluorescent 
screen. The other mode is the photographic 
one. The X-rays, like light-rays, possess 
the property of affecting an ordinary photo- 




JtaMi a J J toto. ^J 

graphic plate, so that where most rays fall 
a black deposit will be formed on subsequently 
treating the plate chemically (developing it), 
as is done in ordinary photography— where 
no rays fall no deposit is formed, the plate is 
then transparent when finished. If a series 
of objects of various degrees of transparency 
are permitted to cast shadows, we obtain a 
series of visible images of different degrees of 
darkness on the developed photographic plate. 
We obtain, in fine, a New Photograph. 

The disposition of the apparatus as used by 
me throughout is represented in Fig. 1. The 
photographic plate is there shown wrapped 
in black paper {so that one may work in 
ordinary daylight) ; upon it lies the object 
{a white rat), whose shadow is being "taken," 
and above it the acting bulb. Behind these 
stands the induction coil, and in the back- 
ground is the batter) r which serves to excite 
the coil. 

And what will be the appearance of the 
image of the rat when taken ? If its shadow 
had been cast by ordinary light, we would 
obtain merely an ungraded shadow, bounded 
by the outline of its body ; because the 
whole body is opaque to rays of light But 
optical opacity is no guarantee of opacity to 
the new rays* To these flesh is very 
tolerably transparent — the rays get through 
several inches of it without considerable loss. 
Bone, on the other hand, is very opaque — 
a shower of rays falling on even slender 
hones is to a large extent stopped. The bones 
will therefore cast a more complete shadow 

than the rest of the 
body. We might 
compare the result 
with that which 
would be obtained 
optically from a 
glass rat with trans- 
lucent porcelain 

Ijtt us prepare 
now to look at 
some of these 
radiographs (as we 
tall them) ob- 
tained by various 
experimentalists in 
England, They 
represent the pro- 
ductions of two 
periods. First, the 
pioneer period, 
when every man 
used the tube and 
other apparatus 
which was right in his own eyes ; secondly, the 
present period in which the focus-tube has 
proved itself to be king over all tubes, and the 
rest of the apparatus adopted is identical in 
character with that figured above* For the 
work produced by Professor Hicks, and also 

\Mi\ -^i" i-ii'-'i. 

From a /•■■,.. j*. J 



, ft P. ThumptM, F.R.& 




Frvtn a /'tab. bvl 


[Afr. U^rtL 

for that done by myself, both periods merge 
into one ; for each of us has used the same 
character of apparatus and bulb throughout 
Further, with regard to my own work, I must 



f-'rofi t a Fhutb. by Mr. Giford. 

say that, with the exception of Figs, 
7, 13, and 21, all shown here were 
obtained by means of the identical 
Mb with which my first successful 
radiograph was taken. I mention 
this latter fact in order to assist in 
dissipating the impression created by 
the first reports of English work, 
viz., that the radiographs could only 
be obtained at the expense of an 
immeasurable number of bulbs. We 
heard (in imagination) crash after 
crash as successive bulbs succumbed. 
But these crashes did not occur in 
our own laboratory. 

We must hasten to our first-period 
photographs. Fig. 2 is an example 
of Lenard photography by Mr. G. W. 
Spiers, working in the laboratory of 
Professor Ayrton, F.R.S. It is 
interesting, because it was taken 
with a zin* coil, at a time when very 
much huger and more complicated 
apparatus was declared to be neces- 
sary for the process. Fig. 3 is by 
Mr. A. C- Swinton, to whom the 
credit is due of being the first to 
obtain a Rontgen radiograph in 

Great Britain. It 
represents a dearly 
defined shadow cast 
by the body-clothed 
skeleton of a plaice. 
In Fig. 4 we have 
a glimpse of a pos- 
sible practical appli- 
cation of the pro- 
cess. The revelation 
of the bones in a 
living subject at 
once opened up the power of the process in 
investigating the nature of internal injuries 
without the need of surgical probing The 
figure represents an injured hand, taken by 

Professor Sylvan us 
Thompson, F + R + S. 
The definition, 
however, in this 
case is not good 
enough to enable 
one to make out 
more than the 
general positions 
of the bones. 
The illustrations. 



\\\ Jr ;. • i..,'i,u uimaimm; sock ,\su hH)L 
From a Photo. &tf A. W. I'arttr. 

Figs. 50 and 5^ were radiographed by Mr, 
J. W\ GifFord, of Chard, one of the first whose 
names became familiar to us in connection 
with the subject. Fig, $b was taken with a 
practical object The heavier metals are very 
opaque to the X-rays ; hence the presence of 
a lead bullet in a limb should at once mani- 
fest itself. There is no need to put a bullet 
in one's hand to test the point. 
Ml Giflbrd has utilized the paw 
of a shot rabbit, in the fractured 
bone of which the shot is em- 
bedded. The fur was on the paw, 
but the radiation went through 
it as easily as you go through an 
open door ; hence it does not 
appear on the print 

We will deal with the actual 
surgical cases later on : but this 
is the place to say thai, in the 
first public demonstration of 
the new process given in Great 
Britain (given by me on January 
29th}, I took, with an exposure 
of 3^min. 3 a radiograph of a 
finger containing a lead pellet, 
which showed most clearly the 

presence of the pellet Short exposures, 
such as that just mentioned, were all 
that were required (at any rate in my 
case) for such slender things as fingers. 
In passing from these to thicker ob- 
jects, such exposures were found to be 
insufficient. It has to be borne in mind 
that each inch of substance passed 
through cuts off a certain percentage 
of the incident rays, and in order that 
the same quantity of rays shall reach the 
sensitive plate, a longer exposure must 
be given for thick objects than for thin. 
This is exemplified in Fig. 6, which 
was taken with the assistance of Mr. 
Alec Duckham. Six minutes' exposure 
was given, although for a hand four 
minutes would have been ample. The 
sock was visible optically, almost in- 
visible Rontgenically, though its outline 
shows faintly along one side. 

The same point is exemplified still 
better by Fig. 7 (taken at a much latci 
date), representing a foot taken with 
both sock and boot on— a sample 
curious for its revelation of the structure 
(partly metallic) of the boot, and quite 
ghastly in its portrayal of the bones 
inside. We willingly turn to some less 
gruesome specimens. 

Fig. 8 is a chicken's foot, which was 
laid on the sensitive plate placed at the 
bottom of a cardboard box packed up to 
the lid with corrugated paper (such as is used 
for packing bottles), the lid put on, and the 
whole radiographed The result is of unsur- 
passed sharpness. 

In Fig. 9, the water-newt, or common 
triton, proudly exposes his wrists and ankles 
to view ; and very pretty they are, too. 


L/Wfcl'd; A*UK+iUiin. 



But for magnifi- 
cence nothing can 
compare with the 
common frog (Fig. 
io), He was made 
for the process. His 
skeleton is strong 
but graceful : built 
up of innumerable 
small bones, each 
of which is so fine 
that the radiation 
partly penetrating 
it reveals rts internal structure, and yet it 
stands boldly out in the midst of its almost 
spiritual covering of flesh. The radiograph 
kindly hides the fact that he had been dead 

From a Photo, by | 

FIG. 9. — MitWT. 

\*k. W. I'vrtcr. 

Fig, 11 is by Professor Hicks, of Sheffield. 
(We must remark that all the examples by 
Professor Hicks which we have seen are of 
remarkable sharpness and distinctness, and we 

would have been 
1 glad of examples 
from him on a 
variety of sub- 
jects,) This figure 
served to locate a 
needle which had 
become embed- 
ded in the ball of 
a thumb. 

Fig. 12 {a and 
fi) is another simi- 
lar instance where 
the needle is in a 
more difficult 
position. It illus- 
trates how en- 
tangled such an 
intruder can 
become in the 


Ftom a Ptoto, bp A. W. Porter. 

several days when this last 
memorial of his earthly 
career was obtained. The 
only indication of the fact 
is the abnormally expanded 
Umg, which shows of a 
light shade in the figure, 

We turn now to the 
severely practical side of 
the subject— the utility of 
the process as an aid to the 
surgeon. This aspect of the 
subject is more suited to 
the pages of a medical 
journal — - wc prefer not 
to look on ghastly things, 
A few illustrations will serve 
to emphasize its vast im- 

trmn a I'to^U*- by\ 

fig. 11. — itm 





irw itvkM, ^/tij. 



nr*. £3*1, HAM) CUH1AIM.NC NEbULh WllH THUMb iZLtJIiE ALrAII^M I'riLfll, 

From a PKrto* bu Perttr -* AU&*. */«** 

tissues into which it works its way. The only 
difference between Fig. 12a and Fig. 12b is 
that in the former the thumb is dose against 
the palm, while in the latter it is stretched as 
far from it as possible ; yet this slight move- 
ment of the thumb has shifted the shadow 
of the needle through nearly a right angle. 

In both Professor Hicks J s case and the 
latter the needle was successfully removed. 
A specially interesting fact with regard to the 
latter is that the doctor who had initially 
treated the case was confident (in spite of the 
swelling and pain) that no netdk was present. 

We will glance, 
as we take the path 
away from this part 
of the subject, at 
a malformation of 
the hand (Fig, 13)* 
The process is 
here seen to be 
valuable, as afford- 
ing interesting in- 
formation where 
no resort to the 
surgeon's knife is 
intended. The 
hand lacks the 
normal number of 
fingers : there are 
only three bones 
in the palm instead 
of five ; and one 
of the wrist bones 
is wanting. 

The process has 
been applied 
almost exclusively 

VoL xii.-16 

to the animal and 
mineral kingdom. 
I am not aware 
that any attempt 
has been made 
outside our own 
college to extend 
its range of appli- 
cation to the vege- 
table kingdom. 
But the different 
parts of a plant 
are of different 
degrees of trans- 
parency, and there- 
fore will be differ- 
entiated from one 
another if a radio- 
graph be taken. 
The inside of a 
growing plant can 
then be revealed without destroying the life 
of the plant. As an illustration take 
Fig. 14 (a and £), which shows (a) the out- 
side of a black tropical pod taken by ordi- 
nary photography ; {&) its internal structure 
revealed by the new method- These were 
obtained by Mr, W. Grant, of this college. 
We do not scruple to tear a plant to pieces, 
and this will generally be the easiest way of 
finding out what is inside, hut there may 
occur cases in botanical investigation in which 
the new process will be of some slight use, 
A means which is so capable of disclosing 

J""IG. *3^F~ 

>,— HANIJ 


From a Photo, bit Pvrtir a Allan Unit. 




Fivm a Photo. 6|d 

Flci. 13,— MALFOkMED HANU H 

the presence of metal might well be expected 
to have other useful application besides its 
surgical one. We have heard that it has 
been used by the Post Office for detecting 
the unlawful presence of coins in unregistered 
packages. A more important application is 
that which has been made by MM. Ch. 
Girard and F, Bordas, the former of whom is 
Director of the Municipal Laboratory in Paris. 
To these gentlemen is intrusted the 
hazardous task of examining bombs and 
dynamitards' and other packages suspected 
of containing explosive material. We can 
understand the eagerness with which they 
have put to proof the possibility of using the 
new rays as an aid in their performance of 
their dangerous duties. Some of the results 
of their experiments are shown in Figs, 15 
and 16, Fig. 15 represents an ordinary 

photograph of an 
explosive - book, 
such as was sent 
some three or four 
years ago to MM. 
Constans and 

It is constructed 
on the ** bon-bon " 
principle. One 
end of the cracker 
is attached to the 
cover, the other 
end to a box 
placed 111 a hollow- 
inside the glued- 
up leaves* When 
the book is opened 
the cracker goes 
off and ignites the 
contents of the 
iron vessel. If this 
is filled with ful- 
minate of mercury 
and scraps of iron, the result can be better 
imagined than described. What the contents 
are can be in part discovered by the new 
photographic method. 

The revelation made by Fig. 16 is quite 
sufficient to make one cautious in further 
investigating the encyclopedic character of 
the contents of this terrible volume. 

We leave behind us now the period in 
which sharply defined results could only be 
obtained by the few. In the present stage 
anyone can obtain such results who is 
inclined to pay the extortionate prices 
charged by the sundry sellers of the u focus- 
tube," Results, therefore, fail to have the 
same interest as those obtained in the 
pioneer period. But I give a few here in 
order to bring the matter well up to date. 
A remarkably clear hand, by Mr Giflbrd, 

l A. W. Purler. 







FIG* I4tf.— QRU1NAKY PHDTO<iBAPI ' ii.<l I 

Frum a Photo, by Mr. 

iR A.Ptw of ski-: D- E1>D. 


si'.b:i.-E : uU. 



19); and a further example is seen in 
Fig. 20— a pigeon by Mr, Stainer, of 
Folkestone. In this the trachea, or 
windpipe, shows plainly up to the point 
where the poulterer interfered. Lower 
down are seen the stones which the 


is presented in Fig, 17, The amount of 
detail on it is surprising. The shading does 
not represent surface marking as it would in 
ordinary photography. It is an indication of 
the spongy nature of the bone. The shaft of 
each bone is seen (on interpretation) to be of 
much denser bone than the terminal por- 
tions. Indeed, in the first stage of life these 
portions have not yet become ossified This 
is illustrated by the next example — a puppy, 
by Mr. Swinton (Fig. 18), in which the large 
interspaces between the bones represent 
regions filled with cartilaginous material, 
which will in part become ossified at a 
later period of life. 
In the earlier 
attempts little suc- 
cess was obtained 
by those who used 
imperfectly acting 
tubes, in differen- 
tiating the various 
portions of the 
flesh from one 
another, A con- 
siderable amount 
of success has 
sincp been ob- 
tained. I give a 
fine example by 
Mr, Swinton — a 
side view of the 
heel, in which* 
tendon, muscle, 
surface tissues, and 
bone are each dis- 
tinguishable from 
one another (Fig, 

Digitized by G005le 


gizzard contains and which serve the same 
purpose as teeth in animals that possess them. 

Finally I present a bat, by myself (Fig. 21), 
This animal had not awakened from his winter 
sleep when he was transported from the country 
and subjected to the radiographic ordeal. 

We have been dealing with the subject 


LJi^ (rtfiM-eL 



FKS» 18. — ncr-v {SHOWING ISi." 

&mm q J'/mAh. h)t Mr. Swinlvn. 

chiefly in so far as it 
lends itself to pictorial 
illustration. But the 
matter is one which* as 
I stated near the begin- 
ning, has aroused an 
enormous amount of 
interest amongst scien 
tific men. As leaders in 
this respect in Britain 
may be mentioned Pr. 
; J. Lodge, KR.S, of 
Liverpool, and Professor 
J. J. Thomson, F,R.S„ 
of Cambridge, But there 
is scarcely a physical 
laboratory in the world 
in which experimental 
work is not being done 
in confirmation ami ex- 
tension of the valuable 
work done by Professor 
Rontgen himself. 

The universality of 
this inquiry brings with 
u an important ad van 

tage. There is evidence that this 
radiation is not a simple thing. 
Just as light of many kinds is 
known — ** blood-red and purple, 
green and blue" — so it would 
appear that Rontgen radiation 
is of a variegated character It 
is of the supremest importance, 
then, that it should be developed 
under the greatest possible 
variety of conditions in order 
that its nature may be adequately 
brought to light 

What that nature is is still a 
mystery. No crucial experiment 
has been yet made deciding 
definitely in favour of one over 
the other of the two guesses 
which were made at first. In 
many respects it behaves like 
ordinary light. It thus behaves 
in its action on photographic 
plates and in its power of making 
certain bodies glow when placed 
in its path. It is like light also 
in so far as it can be reflected 
from certain surfaces. Here, 
however, the resemblance ceases. 
Light-rays are commonly bent on 

» G80gle 




/Vwn a Photo, by J 

FtC, 3ft— PIGKl»N\ 

passing from one substance to another No 
evidence of similar bending has been obtained 
for the new rays. Puzzling though this 
property of always passing in a straight 
course through a succession of substances 
undoubtedly is, it is yet not conclusive evi- 
dence against the rays being essentially similar 
to light-rays. A helpful analogy may be sought 
in the behaviour of a beam of light itself. 
"The gay motes that 
people a sunbeam" 
have no power to turn 
the beam out of its 
course ; and if we can 
conceive the particles 
of which any substance 
is built up as behaving 
toward the new radia- 
tion in very much the 
same way that the par- 
ticles of dust in the 
atmosphere act on the 
sunbeam which streams 
through them, the diffi- 
culty is to a large 
extent removed. 

Professor Rontgen's own sugges- 
tion was different from this. It is 
known that ordinary light consists of 
waves in a medium filling all space, 
to which the name u ether " has been 
given. If a stone is dropped into a 
pool of water, it starts the water 
moving up and down in such a way 
that a series of waves is propagated 
in every direction over the surface of 
the pooL When a candle or other 
bright point is shining, it is setting 
the ether particles vibrating from side 
to side in such a way that a series of 
waves passes aw T ay from it in every 
direction. But instead of vibrating 
from side to side, it is possible to 
imagine the ether moving backward 
and forward in the direction in which 
the waves travel. The waves pro- 
duced would be called longitudinal 
waves* Such waves actually occur 
in our atmosphere, and are called 
sound; but they have never hitherto 
been detected in the ether. Are 
Rontgen waves the missing longitudi- 
nal waves in the ether? This was 
Rontgen's question ; to it no decisive 
answer has yet been given, though 
the balance of evidence seems against 
an affirmative answer. Whichever of 
these solutions is the true one, we 
have been brought face to face with 
facts which would only a short while ago have 
been considered improbable, if not impossible. 
Anew region for scientific exploration has been 
opened up, and no one yet knows what the 
extent of the new land is. But as we walk in it 
all regrets at our previous ignorance of its 
existence pass away, and the dominant feeling 
becomes one of joy and expectation with re- 
gard to the potentialities of our new possessions. 



LA W. FoTtti: 


Bv Alys Hallard. 

T was just after the scandal at 
our club, and a little group 
of us were talking in a very 
animated way of the affair. 
Captain Joubert did not join 
in the conversation, and did 
not even eem to be listening to us, 

u What will you take for your thoughts ? " 
I said to him, at last, 

" Oh ! they are not worth much. I was 
thinking just then of an incident which 
occurred once at a club in a small provincial 
town where I happened to be staying." 

"Tell us about it ! " exclaimed one of the 
other men, and the captain lighted a cigarette 
and, putting his elbow on the mantel-shelf 
against which he had been leaning, began his 
story :— 

" Well, it was when I was in garrison at 

M , one of the dullest and most stupid 

of provincial towns. There was nothing in 
the world for a fellow to do with himself 
there, no theatre even, only a low music-hall. 

"When I was off duty I gradually got into 
the habit of turning in to the Union Club, 
which, by-the-byc, was the only one the town 

11 It was called the * Union,' I should 
imagine because there was always a dispute 
of some kind or another going on there. 
There was very little play at this club except 
at the time of the three annual fairs, each of 
which lasted a week. One autumn afternoon, 

just at the opening of one of these fairs, I 
happened to go to the club rather early. 
There were a fair number of men there that 
day who were strangers to me, wealthy 
farmers of the neighbourhood, who rarely 
came into town, and the various owners of 
the country houses round, 

"'They are playing high to-day/ said one 
of the habitues of the club to me, I turned 
round towards the table to watch the game, 
and was so surprised at the sight of one of 
the players that I almost exclaimed. 

II It was a young man of some twenty-two 
or twenty -three years of age, whom I knew 
by sight I was very much interested in 
him, for his father had fought courageously 
at Magenta and had been killed on the field 
of battle, leaving his widow and son by no 
means well provided for. The young man 
came very rarely to the club, and I had 
never seen him touch a card before, I was 
stupefied therefore to see him holding the 
hank, and a good bank it was too, for there 
were plenty of notes and gold coins, heaped 
up in front of him. 

" ^ How much?' called out one of the 

" ( Oh ! ' laughed a wealthy farmer, ' M. de 
Mertens is in luck's way : he can safely keep 
his bank open.' 

II I noticed that the young man's face was 
deadly pale, and there was an excited look in 
his eyes. Original from 




" * Open bank/ he said, and it seemed as 
though the very words had changed the luck. 

"Ten tiroes running Mertens lost, and in 
a quarter of an hour his bank was cleared 
out Another man took his place and the 
play went on. It got so exciting that I, too, 
was fascinated, and joined in. There was no 
room to sit down at the table, so I continued 
standing, holding my hat in my hand and 
throwing my winnings into it I had a run 
of Iuck s and went on playing in the most 
excited way until I was startled by someone 
calling out : * You are being robbed, 
Captain ! ' 

"I started, and instinctively seized a hand 

standing round the table close to each other, 
and on seeing another player put his hand 
into my hat, it was very natural that the man 
should have thought it his duty to warn me. 
On hearing my explanation he apologized 
most humbly to M, de Mertens, and several 
of the acquaintances of the latter gathered 
round and expressed their regret that such an 
insult should have been offered him. 

M We then continued our play, and 
M, de Mertens soon after left the club. 
Three days passed, and I heard nothing more 
of the young man. In shielding him as I 
had done, my first thought had been of his 
father, and I had determined to save from 

%g^^^^///^vf ' 


which had knocked against mine through my 
sudden movement it was M, de Mertens 1 
hand, and he held the forty-pound note 
which he had just taken out of my hat 
The wretched man's face was convulsed 
with emotion. Our eyes met ; his were dilated 
with terror, and there was a look in them 
that seemed to hold me spell-bound. 
■ " l M. de Mertens is my partner/ I said, 
haughtily, to the man who had warned me ; 
l and I am surprised that you should dare to 
bring such an accusation against a gentleman 
whose reputation is so well known/ 

"The individual who had called out had 
never been to the club before, and did not 
know M. de Mertens at all. We had all been 

disgrace the name of the brave soldier of 
Magenta. Of course, I could quite under- 
stand that the young man should now shrink 
from seeing me again, but still it struck me 
as rather strange that in some way, either 
direct or indirect, he did not attempt to 
express his thanks. 

"One evening, however, just as I was going 
out to pay some visits, my orderly informed 
me that a lady wished to see me. I went 
into the drawing-room, and there I found a 
woman of about forty-five years of age. She 
was very dignified-looking, and there was an 
open, honest expression about her face 
which fascinated me. 

11 ' I am Madame dc Mertens,' she said, 




simply. ' My son told me everything about 
the affair at the club, and I have come to 
thank you with all my heart for having pre- 
served for us intact the honour of our name.' 

" t Madame J 1 began ; hut she inter- 
rupted me in her emotion and nervousness. 

t( l My son had got entangled in various 
ways, and in desperation had taken to play. 
It appears he had lost every penny he 
possessed that night You know the rest, 
alas ! ■ 

*' I felt very much embarrassed, for the 
poor mother's grief was terrible to witness, 
She was still standing there in front of me, 
her face was deadly pale, and the tears were 
trembling on her long, dark eyelashes. 

" * He is young, madame; you must not 
take it to heart so/ I stammered. ■ It was 
just a moment's weakness. I will see your 
son, and — — * 

11 * No, Captain/ she said, shaking her head 
sadly, t he is no longer here ... he has 
enlisted, and is already on his way with the 
regiment/ " 

We had all been listening attentively to 
Captain Joubert's story, and when he stopped 
speaking there was silence for a few minutes. 

"And wnat happened to M. de Mertens, 
Captain ? " asked one of our group. " Did 
you ever hear ? " 

u He is dead Six months ago I 

received a letter from Kelung — a pitiful little 
letter— wriLten with very pale ink, and on a 
sheet of paper that was all crumpled and 
yellow with age. There were only a few 
lines for me to read. I know them by heart. 
They were as follows : — 

Ui I am mortally wounded. . . . Admiral 
Courbet has just brought me the cross; but . . « 
I am dying, I am sending it to yott % my poor 
cross . . * for you saved me y and I should like 
you to wear it . • .* 

"This is why, my friends, instead of wear- 
ing the decoration which I received from the 
Chancellor, you always see me with the 
sergeant's cross which poor Mertens sent me. 
Poor boy ! To think that he started as a 
thief t and died a hero's death at Kelung," 


by Google 


Original from 

(""rw^nL'' Original from 



(See page 133.^ 

by Google 

Original from 

Rodney Stone. 




XI) now the day of the great 
fight began to approach. Even 
the imminent outbreak of war 
and the renewed threats of 
Napoleon were secondary 
things in the eyes of the 
sportsmen — and the sportsmen in those days 
made a large half of the population. In 
the club of the patrician and the plebeian 
gmshop r in the coffee-house of the merchant 
or the barrack of the soldier, in London 
or the provinces, the same question was 
interesting the whole nation* Every west- 
country coach brought up word of the fine 
condition of Crab Wilson, who had returned 
to his own native air for his training, and 
was known to be under the immediate care 
of Captain Barclay, the expert On the 
other hand, although my uncle had not 
yet named his man, there was no doubt 
amongst the public that Jim was to be his 
nominee, and the report of his physique 
and of his performance found him many 
backers. On the whole, however, the 
betting was in favour of Wilson, for Bristol 
and the west country stood by him to a 
man, whilst London opinion was divided. 
Three to two were to be had on Wilson 
at any West-end club two days before 
the battle, 

I had twice been down to Crawley to 
see Jim in his training quarters^ where 1 
found him undergoing the severe regimen 
which was usual. From early dawn until 
nightfall he was running, jumping, striking 
a bladder which swung upon a bar, or spar- 
ring with his formidable trainer. His eyes 
shone and his skin glowed with exuberant 
health, and he was so confident of success 
that my own misgivings vanished as I 
watched his gallant bearing and listened 
to his quiet and cheerful words. 

" But I wonder that you should come and 
see me now, Rodney," said he, when we 
parted, trying to laugh as he spoke* " I have 
become a bruiser and your uncle's paid man, 
whilst you are a Corinthian upon town, If 
you had not been the best and truest little 
gentleman in the world, you would have been 
my patron instead of my friend before now." 
When I looked at this splendid fellow, with 
his high-bred, clean-cut face, and thought of 

the fine qualities and gentle, generous im- 
pulses which I knew to lie within him, it 
seemed so absurd that he should speak as 
though my friendship towards him were a 
condescension, that I could not help laughing 

"That is all very well, Rodney," said he> 
looking hard into my eyes. "But what does 
your uncle think about it ? " 

This was a poser, and I could only answer 


lamely enough that, much as I was indebted 
to my uncle, I had known Jim first, and that 
I was surely old enough to choose my own 

Jim's misgivings were so far correct that 
my uncle did very strongly object to any 
intimacy between us, but there were so many 
other points in which he disapproved of my 
conduct, that it made the less difference. I 
fear that he was already disappointed in me. 
I would nat develop an eccentricity, although 



Copyright, 1896, hy A- Conan Doyle, ifl l MJft|\^^ffiY f (+Pf^HIGAN 



he was good enough to point out several by 
which I might " come out of the ruck " as 
he expressed it, and so catch the attention of 
the strange world in which he lived. 

" You are an active young fellow, nephew," 
said he. " Do you not think that you could 
engage to climb round the furniture of an 
ordinary room without setting foot upon the 
ground ? Some little tour-de-force of the sort 
is in excellent taste. There was a captain in 
the Guards who attained considerable social 
success by doing it for a small wager. Lady 
Lieven, who is exceedingly exigeant, used to 
invite him to her evenings merely that he 
might exhibit it." 

I had to assure him that the feat would be 
beyond me. 

"You are just a little difficile? said he, 
shrugging his shoulders. " As my nephew, 
you might have taken your position by per- 
petuating my own delicacy of taste. If you 
had made le mauvais gout your enemy, the 
world of fashion would willingly have looked 
upon you as an arbiter by virtue of your 
family traditions, and you might without a 
struggle have stepped into the position to 
which this young upstart Brummell aspires. 
But you have no instinct in that direction. 
You are incapable of minute attention to 
detail. Look at your shoes ! Look at your 
cravat ! Look at your watch-chain. Two 
links are enough to show. I have shown 
three, but it was an indiscretion. At this 
moment I can see no fewer than five of yours. 
I regret it, nephew, but I do not think that 
you are destined to attain that position 
which I have a right to expect from my 
blood relation." 

" I am sorry to be a disappointment to 
you, sir," said I. 

" It is your misfortune not to have come 
under my influence earlier," said he. "I 
might then have moulded you so as to have 
satisfied even my own aspirations. I had a 
younger brother whose case was a similar 
one. I did what I could for him, but he 
would wear ribbons in his shoes, and he 
publicly mistook white Burgundy for Rhine 
wine. Eventually the poor fellow took to 
books, and lived and died in a country 
vicarage. He was a good man, but he was 
commonplace, and there is noplace in society 
for commonplace people." 

"Then I fear, sir, that there is none for 
me," said I. " But my father has every hope 
that Lord Nelson will find me a position in 
the fleet. If I have been a failure in town, 
I am none the less conscious of your kindness 
in trying to advance my interests, and I 

hope that, should I receive my commission, 
I may be a credit to you yet" 

" It is possible that you may attain the very 
spot which I had marked out for you, but 
by another road," said my uncle. "There 
are many men in town, such as Lord St. 
Vincent, Lord Hood, and others, who move 
in the most respectable circles, although they 
have really nothing but their services in the 
Navy to recommend them." 

It was on the afternoon of the day before 
the fight that this conversation took place 
between my uncle and myself in the dainty 
sanctum of his Jermyn Street house. He 
was clad, I remember, in his flowing brocade 
dressing-gown, as was his custom before he 
set off for his club ; and his foot was ex- 
tended upon a stool — for Abernethy had just 
been in to treat him for an incipient attack 
of the gout. It may have been the pain, or 
it may have been his disappointment at my 
career, but his manner was more testy than 
was usual with him, and I fear that there 
was something of a sneer in his smile as he 
spoke of my deficiencies. For my own part 
I was relieved at the explanation, for my 
father had left London in the full conviction 
that a vacancy would speedily be found for 
us both, and the one thing which had weighed 
upon my mind was that I might have found 
it hard to leave my uncle without interfering 
with the plans which he had formed. I was 
heart-weary of this empty life, for which I 
was so ill-fashioned, and weary also of that 
intolerant talk which would make a coterie of 
frivolous women and foolish fops the central 
point of the universe. Something of my 
uncle's sneer may have flickered upon my own 
lips as I heard him allude with supercilious 
surprise to the presence in those sacrosanct 
circles of the men who had stood between 
the country and destruction. 

" By the way, nephew," said he, " gout or 
no gout, and whether Abernethy likes it or 
not, we must be down at Crawley to-night. 
The battle will take place upon Crawley 
Downs. Sir Lothian Hume and his man are 
at Reigate. I have reserved beds at the 
' George ' for both of us. The crush will, it is 
said, exceed anything ever known. The 
smell of these country inns is always most 
offensive to me — mais que vou/ez-vous ? 
Berkeley Craven was saying in the club last 
night that there is not a bed within twenty 
miles of Crawley which is not bespoke, and 
that they are charging three guineas for the 
night. I hope that your young friend, if I 
must describe him as such, will fulfil the 
promise which he has shown, for I have rather 




more upon the event than I care to lose. Sir 
Lothian has been plunging also — he made a 
single bye-bet of five thousand to three upon 
Wilson in Li miner's yesterday. From what 
I hear of his affairs it will be a serious matter 
for him if we should pull it off. Well, 

"A person to see you, Sir Charles,' 3 said 
the new valet whose hard fate it had been to 
succeed the incomparable Ambrose. 

61 You know that I never see anyone until 
my dressing is complete," 

"He insists upon seeing you, sir. He 
pushed open the door," 

M Pushed it open ! What d'you mean, 
Lorimer? Why didn't you throw him out?" 

A smile passed over the servant's face. At 
the same moment there came a deep voice 
from the passage* 

" You show me in this instant, young man, 
d*ye 'ear ? Let me see your master, or it'll be 
the worse for you." 

I thought that I had heard the voice 
before, but when, over the shoulder of the 
valet, I caught a glimpse of a large, fleshy 
bull-face, with a flattened Michael Angelo 
nose in the centre of it, I knew at once that 
it was my neighbour at the supper party, 

" TLs Warr, the prize-fighter, sir," said I. 

u Yes, sir," said our visitor, pushing his 
huge form into the room. vi It's Bill Warr, 

landlord of the 'One Ton' public-'ouse, 
Jermyn Street, and the gamest man upon the 
list. There's only one thing that ever beat 
me, Sir Charles, and that was my flesh, which 
creeps over me that amazin' fast that I've 
always got four stone that 'as no business 
there. Why, sir, I've got enough to spare to 
make a feather-weight champion out of. 
You'd 'ardly think, to look at me, that even 
after Mendoza fought me I was able to jump 
the four-foot ropes at the ring-side just as 
light as a little kiddy ; but if I was to chuck 
my castor into the ring now I'd never get it 
till the wind blew it out again, for blow my 
dicky if I could climb after. My respects to 
you, young sir, and I 'ope I see you well/ 1 

My uncle's face had expressed considerable 
disgust at this invasion of his privacy, but it 
was part of his position to be on good terms 
with the fighting-men, so he contented him- 
self with asking curtly what business had 
brought him there. For answer the huge 
prize-fighter looked meaningly at the valet. 

(i It's important, Sir Charles, and between 
man and man," said he, 

" You may go, Lorimer* Now*, Warr, 
what is the matter? 5I 

The bruiser very calmly seated himself 
astride of a chair with his arms resting upon 
the back of it. 

** I've got information, Sir Charles/ 1 said he. 

r 4 


LffQim . 





" Well, what is it ? " cried my uncle, 

" Information of value." 

" Out with it, then ! " 

" Information that's worth money," said 
Warr, and pursed up his lips. 

" I see. You want to be paid for what 
you know ? " 

The prize-fighter smiled an affirmative. 

" Well, I don't buy things on trust. You 
should know me better than to try such a 
game with me." 

" I know you for what you are, Sir Charles, 
and that is a noble, slap-up Corinthian. But 
if I was to use this against you, d'ye see, it 
would be worth 'undreds in my pocket. But 
my eart won't let me do it, for Bill Warr's 
always been on the side o' good sport and 
fair play. If I use it for you, then I expect 
that you won't see me the loser." 

" You can do what you like," said my 
uncle. " If your news is of service to me, 
I shall know how to treat you." 

" You can't say fairer than that. We'll let 
it stand there, gov'nor, and you'll do the 
'andsome thing, as you 'ave always 'ad the 
name for doin'. Well, then, your man, Jim 
'Arrison, fights Crab Wilson, of Gloucester, at 
Crawley Down to-morrow mornin' for a stake." 

" What of that?" 

u Did you 'appen to know what the bettin' 
was yesterday ? " 

" It was three to two on Wilson." 

"Right you are, gov'nor. Three to two 
was offered in my own bar-parlour. D'you 
know what the bettin' is to-day ? " 

" I have not been out yet" 

" Then I'll tell you. It's seven to one 
against your man." 


" Seven to one, gov'nor, no less." 

" You're talking nonsense, Warr ! How 
could the betting change from three to two to 
seven to one ? " 

" I've been to Tom Owen's, and I've been 
to the c 'Ole in the Wall,' and I've been to the 
1 Waggon and 'Orses,' and you can get seven to 
one in any of them. There's tons of money 
being laid against your man. It's a 'orse to a 
'en in every sportin' 'ouse and boozin' ken 
from 'ere to Stepney." 

For a moment the expression upon my 
uncle's face made me realize for the first time 
that this match was really a serious matter to 
him. Then he shrugged his shoulders with 
an incredulous smile. 

" All the worse for the fools who give the 
odds," said he. " My man is all right. Yeu 
saw him yesterday, nephew ?v i 

" He was all right yesterday, sir." 

"If anything had gone wrong I should 
have heard." 

" But perhaps," said Warr, "it 'as not gone 
wrong with 'im yet" 

"What d'you mean?" 

" I'll tell you what I mean, sir. You 
remember Berks ? You know that he ain't 
to be over much depended on at any time, 
and that he 'ad a grudge against your man 
'cause 'e laid 'im out in the coach-'ouse. 
Well, last night about ten o'clock in 'e comes 
into my bar, and the three beastliest rogues 
in London at his 'eels. There was Red Ike, 
'jm that was warned off the ring 'cause he 
fought a cross with Bittoon ; and there was 
pightin' Yussef, who would sell his mother for 
a seven-shillin'-bit ; the third was Chris 
McCarthy, who is a fogle-snatcher by trade, 
with a pitch outside the 'Aymarket Theatre. 
You don't often see four such beauties 
together, and all with as much as they could 
carry save only Chris, who is too leary a cove 
to drink when there's somethin' goin' forward. 
For my part, I showed 'em into the parlour, 
not 'cos they was worthy of it, but 'cos I ' 
knew right well they would start bashin' some 
of my customers, and maybe get my license 
into trouble, if I left 'em in the bar. I served 
'em with drink, and stayed with 'em just to 
see that they didn't lay their 'ands on the 
stuffed paroquet and the pictures. 

" W T ell, gov'nor, to cut it short, they began 
to talk about the fight, and they all laughed 
at the idea that young Jim 'Arrison could win 
it — all except Chris, and 'e kept a-nudging 
and a-twitchin' at the others until Joe Berks 
nearly gave 'im a wipe across the face for 
'is trouble. I saw somethin' was in the wind, 
and it wasn't very 'ard to guess what it was 
— especially when Red Ike was ready to put 
up a fiver that Jim 'Arrison would never fight 
at all. So I up to get another bottle of lip- 
trap, and I slipped round to the shutter 
that we pass the liquor through from the 
private bar into the parlour. I drew it an 
inch open, and I might ha' been at the table 
with them, I could 'ear every word that 

"There was Chris McCarthy growlin' at 
them for not keepin' their tongues still, and 
there was Joe Berks swearin' that 'e would 
knock 'is face in if 'e dared give 'im any of 
'is lip. So Chris 'e sort of argued with them, 
for 'e was frightened of Berks, and 'e put it 
to them whether they would be fit for the job 
in the mornin', and whether the gov'nor 
would pay the money if 'e found they 'ad 

been m^^WM be trusted ' 

um " 



This struck them sober, all three, an J 
Fighting Yussef asked what time they were 
to start Chris si id that as long as they were 
at Crawley before the ' George ' shut up they 
could work it 'It's poor pay for a chance 
of a rope/ said Red Ike. * Rope be blowed ! ' 
cried Chris, takiti* a little loaded stick out 
of his side pocket * If three of you 'old 
him down and I break his arm -bone with 
this we've earned our money, and we don't 
risk more'n six months' skilly and crank. 
1 'Ell fight/ said Berks. 'Well, it's the only 
fight 'e'll get/ answered Chris* and that was 
all I 'eard of it This mornin* out I went, 
and I found as I told you afore that the 
money is goin' on to Wilson by the ton, and 
that no odds are too long for the layers. So 
it stands, gov'nor, and you know what the 
meanin' of it may be better than Bill Warr 
can tell you,' 

"Very good, Warr/* said my uncle, rising. 
41 1 am very much obliged to you for telling 
me this, and I will see that you are not a 
loser by it I put it down as the gossip of 
drunken ruffians, 
but none the less 
you have served 
me vastly by call- 
ing my attention 
to it* I suppose 
I shall see you 
at the Downs to- 
morrow? " 

11 Mr, Jackson 
'as asked me to be 
one o 1 the beaters- 
out, sir," 

" Very good, I 
hope that we shall 
have a fair and 
good fight Good 
day to you, and 
thank you," 

My uncle had 
preserved his 
jaunty demeanour 
as long as Warr 
was in the room, 
but the door had 
hardly closed upon 
him before he 
turned to me with 
a face which was 
more agitated than 
I had ever seen it 

" We must be 
off for Crawley at 
once, nephew," 
said he ringing the 

bell. "There's not a moment to be lost 
Lorimer, order the bays to be harnessed in 
the curricle. Put the toilet things in, and 
tell William to have it round at the door as 
soon as possible." 

" I'll see to it, sir/' said I, and away I 
ran to the mews in Little Ryder Street, 
where my uncle stabled his horses. The 
groom was away, and 1 had to send a lad 
in search of him, while with the help of the 
livery-man I dragged the curricle from the 
coach-house and brought the two mares out 
of their stalls. It was half an hour, or 
possibly three-quarters, before everything had 
been found, and Lorimer was already waiting 
in Jermyn Street with the inevitable baskets, 
whilst my uncle stood in the open door of 
his house, clad in his long, faw T n-coloured 
driving-coat, with no sign upon his calm pale 
face of the tumult of impatience which must, 
I was sure, be raging within. 

" We shall leave you 3 Lorimer," said he. 
"We might find it hard to get a bed for you. 
Keep at her head, William ! Jump in, 



^ ^ab- 
original from 



nephew. Halloa, Warr, what is the matter 
now ? " 

The prize-fighter was hastening towards us 
as fast as his bulk would allow. 

" Just one word before you go, Sir Charles," 
he panted. " I've just 'eard in my tap-room 
that the four men I spoke of left for Crawley 
at one o'clock." 

" Very good, Warr," said my uncle, with 
his foot upon the step. 

" And the odds have sprung to ten to one." 

" Let go her head, William ! " 

"Just one more word, gov'nor. You'll 
excuse the liberty, but if I was you I'd take 
my pistols with me." 

' Thank you, I have them." 

The long thong cracked between the ears 
of the leader, the groom sprang for the pave- 
ment, and Jermyn Street had changed for St 
James's, and that again for Whitehall with a 
swiftness which showed that the gallant mares 
were as impatient as their master. It was 
half-past four by .the Parliament clock as we 
flew on to Westminster Bridge. There was 
the flash of water beneath us, and then we 
were between those two long, dun-colotired 
lines of houses which had been the avenue 
which had led us to London. My uncle sat 
with tightened lips and a brooding brow. We 
had reached Streatham before he broke the 

"I have a good deal at stake, nephew," 
said he. 

" So have I, sir," I answered. 

" You ! " he cried, in surprise. 

" My friend, sir." 

"Ah, yes, I had forgot. You have some 
eccentricities after all, nephew. You are a 
faithful friend, which is a rare enough thing 
in our circles. I never had but one friend of 
my own position, and he — but you've heard 
me tell the story. I fear it will be dark 
before we reach Crawley." 

" I fear that it will." 

"In that case we may be too late." 

" Pray God not, sir ! " 

" We sit behind the best cattle in England, 
but I fear lest we find the roads blocked 
before we get to Crawley. Did you observe, 
nephew, that these four villains spoke in 
Warr's hearing of the master who was behind 
them, and who was paying them for their 
infamy ? Did you not understand that they 
were hired to cripple my man ? Who then 
could have hired them ? Who had an 

interest unless it was I know Sir 

Lothian Hume to be a desperate man. I 
know that he has had heavy card losses at 
Wader's and White's. I know also that he 

has much at stake upon tlis event, and that 
he has plunged upon it with a rashness which 
made his friends think that he had some 
private reason for being Satisfied as to the 
result By Heaven, it all hangs together ! If 

it should be so ! " He relapsed into 

silence, but I saw the same look of cold 
fierceness settle upon his features which I 
had marked there when be and Sir John 
Lade had raced wheel to wheel down the 
Godstone road. 

The sun sank slowly towards the low 
Surrey hills, and the shadows crept steadily 
eastwards, but the whirr of the wheels and 
the roar of the hoofs never slackened. A 
fresh wind blew upon our faces, while the 
young leaves drooped motionless from the 
wayside branches. The golden edge of the 
sun was just sinking behind the oaks of 
Reigate Hill when the dripping mares drew 
up before the " Crown " at Redhill. The 
landlord, an old sportsman and ringsider, 
ran out to greet so well-known a Corinthian 
as Sir Charles Tregellis. 

" You know Berks, the bruiser ? " asked 
my uncle. 

" Yes, Sir Charles." 

" Has he passed ? " 

"Yes, Sir Charles. It may have been 
about four o'clock, though with this crowd of 
folk and carriages it's hard to swear to it 
There was him, and Red Ike, and Fighting 
Yussef the Jew, and another, with a good bit 
of blood betwixt the shafts. They'd been 
driving her hard, too, for she was all in a 

"That's ugly, nephew," said my uncle, 
when we were flying onwards towards Reigate. 
" If they drove so hard, it looks as though 
they wished to get early to work." 

"Jim and Belcher would surely be a match 
for the four of them," I suggested. 

" If Belcher were with him I should have 
no fear. But you cannot tell what diablerie 
they may be up to. Let us only find him 
safe and sound, and I'll never lose sight of 
him until I see him in the ring. We'll sit up 
on guard with our pistols, nephew, and I only 
trust that these villains may be indiscreet 
enough to attempt it But they must have 
been very sure of success before they put the 
odds to such a figure, and it is that which 
alarms me." 

" But surely they have nothing to win by 
such villainy, sir? If they were to hurt Jim 
Harrison the battle could not be fought, and 
the bets would not be decided." 

"So it would berin an ordinary prize- 

ba %»terTm^iftig»f natfithat ^ 



should be so, or the rascals who infest the 
ring would soon make all sport impossible. 
But here it is different On the terms of the 
wager I lose unless I can produce a man, 
within the prescribed ages, who can beat 
Crab Wilson. You must remember that I 
have never named my man, Cesf dommage, 
but so it is ! We know who it is and so do 
our opponents, but the referees and stake- 
holder would take no notice of that If we 
complain that Jim Harrison has been crippled, 
they would answer that they have no official 

the west andTunbridge in the east, had con- 
tributed their stream of four-in-hands, gigs, 
and mounted sportsmen, until the whole 
broad Brighton highway was choked from 
ditch to ditch with a laughing, singing, shout- 
ing throng, all flowing in the same direction. 
No man who looked upon that motley crowd 
could deny that, for good or evil, the love of 
the ring was confined to no class, but was a 
national peculiarity, deeply seated in the 
English nature j and a common heritage of 
the young aristocrat in his drag and of the 


knowledge that Jim Harrison was our 
nominee. It's play or pay, and the villains 
are taking advantage of it," 

My uncle's fears as to our being blocked 
upon the road were only too well founded, 
for after we passed Reigate there was such a 
procession of every sort of vehicle, that I 
believe for the whole eight miles there was 
not a horse whose nose was further than a 
few feet from the back of the curricle or 
barouche in front. Every road leading from 

London, as well as those from Guildford in 
Vol. xtL-i-17. 

rough costers sitting six-deep in their pony- 
cart There I saw statesmen and soldiers, 
noblemen and lawyers, farmers and squires, 
with roughs of the East-end and yokels of 
the shires, all toiling along with the prospect 
of a night of discomfort before them, on the 
chance of seeing a fight which might, for all 
that they knew, be decided in a single round. 
A more cheery and hearty set of people could 
not be imagined, and the chaff flew about as 
thick as the dust clouds, while at every way- 
side inn l:he landlord and the drawers would 



be out with trays of foam-headed tankards to 
moisten those importunate throats. The 
ale-drinking, the rude good-fellowship, the 
heartiness, the laughter at discomforts, the 
craving to see the fight — all these may be 
set down as vulgar and trivial by those to 
whom they are distasteful ; but to me, listening 
to the far-off and uncertain echoes of our 
distant past, they seem to have been the 
very bones upon which much that is most 
solid and virile in this ancient race was 

But, alas for our chance of hastening on- 
wards ! Even my uncle's skill could not 
pick a passage through that moving mass. 
We could but fall into our places and be 
content to snail along from Reigate to Horley 
and on to Povey Cross and over Lowfield 
Heath, while day shaded away into twilight, 
and that deepened into night. At Kimber- 
ham Bridge the carriage lamps were all lit, 
and it was wonderful, where the road curved 
downwards before us, to see this writhing 
serpent with the golden scales crawling before 
us in the darkness. And then, at last, we 
saw the formless mass of the huge Crawley 
elm looming before us in the gloom, and 
there was the broad village street with the 
glimmer of the cottage windows, and the 
high front of the old " George Inn," glowing 
from every door and pane and crevice, in 
honour of the noble company who were to 
sleep within that night. 



My uncle's impatience would not suffer him 
to wait for the slow rotation which would 
bring us to the door, but he flung the reins 
and a crown-piece to one of the rough fellows 
who thronged the side-walk, and pushing his 
way vigorously through the crowd he made 
for the entrance. As he came within the 
circle of light thrown by the windows, a 
whisper ran round as to who this masterful 
gentleman with the pale face and the driving 
coat might be, and a lane was formed to 
admit us. I had never before realized 
the popularity of my uncle in the sporting 
world, for the folk began to huzza as we 
passed with cries of " Hurrah for Buck 
Tregellis ! Good luck to you and your man, 
Sir Charles ! Clear a path for a bang-up 
noble Corinthian ! " whilst the landlord, 
attracted by the shouting, came running out 
to greet us. 

" Good evening, Sir Charles ! " he cried. 
" I hope I see you well, sir, and I trust that 

you will find that your man does credit to 
the ' George.' " 

"How is he?" asked my uncle, quickly. 

" Never better, sir. Looks a picture, he 
does — and fit to fight for a kingdom." 

My uncle gave a sigh of relief. 

" Where is he ? " he asked. 

" He's gone to his room early, sir, seem' 
that he had some very partic'lar business 
to-morrow mornin'," said the landlord, 

"Where is Belcher?" 

" Here he is, in the bar parlour." 

He opened a door as he spoke, and looking 
in we saw a score of well-dressed men, some 
of whose faces had become familiar to me 
during my short West-end career, seated 
round a table upon which stood a steaming 
soup-tureen filled with punch. At the further 
end, very much at his ease amongst the 
aristocrats and exquisites who surrounded 
him, sat the Champion of England, his superb 
figure thrown back in his chair, a flush upon 
his handsome face, and a loose red handker- 
chief knotted carelessly round his throat in 
the picturesque fashion which was long 
known by his name. Half a century has 
passed since then, and I have seen my share of 
fine men. Perhaps it is because I am a slight 
creature myself, but it is my peculiarity that 
I had rather look upon a splendid man than 
upon any work of Nature. Yet during all 
that time I have never seen a finer man than 
Jim Belcher, and if I wish to match him in 
my memory, I can only turn to that other 
Jim whose fate and fortunes I am trying to 
lay before you. 

There was a shout of jovial greeting when 
my uncle's face was seen in the doorway. 

" Come in, Tregellis ! " " We were ex- 
pecting you ! " " There's a devilled blade- 
bone ordered." " What's the latest from 
London?" "What is the meaning of the 
long odds against your man ? " " Have the 
folk gone mad?" "What the deuce is 
it all about?" They were all talking at 

" Excuse me, gentlemen," my uncle 
answered. " I shall be happy to give you 
any information in my power a little later. 
I have a matter of some slight importance 
to decide. Belcher, I would have a word 
with you ! " 

The Champion came out with us into the 

" Where is your man, Belcher ? " 

" He has gone to his room, sir. I believe 
that he should have a clear twelve hours' 
sleep before SghtingtfF MICHIGAN 


*3 f 

" What sort of day has he had ?" 
u I did him lightly in the matter of exer- 
cise* Clubs, dumb-bells, walking, and a half- 
hour with the mufflers. He'll do us all proud, 
sir, or Tm a Dutchman ! But what in the 
world's amiss with the betting ? If I didn't 

with him, except only your nephew there and 

11 Four villains, with Berks at their head, 
got the start of us by several hours. It was 
Warr who told me," 

* £ What Bill Warr says is straight, and what 


'A lake was formed to admit us. 

know thar he was as straight as a line, I'd ha' 
thought he was planning a cross and laying 
against himself." 

u It's about that I've hurried down. I 
have good information, Belcher, that there 
has been a plot to cripple him, and that the 
rogues are so sure of success that they are 
prepared to lay anything against his appear- 

Belcher whistled between his teeth. 

" I've seen no sign of anything of the kind, 
sin No one has been near him or had speech 

Joe Berks does is crooked. Who were the 
others, sir ? n 

"Red Ike, Fighting Yussef, and Chris 

(i A pretty gang, too! Well, sir, the 
lad is safe, but it would be as well, per- 
haps, for one or other of us to stay 
in his room with him, For my own part, 
as long as he's my charge I'm never very 
far away." 

" It is a pity lO wake him. 

'IWiVE&hllfeM^ib^bifefclp with all this 

1 S 2 


racket in the house. This way, sir, and down 
the passage I " 

We passed along the low-roofed, devious 
corridors of the old-fashioned inn to the 
hack of the house. 

" This is my room, sir, IJ said Belcher, 
nodding to a door upon the right* "This 
one upon the left is his." He threw it open 
as he spoke. " Here's Sir Charles Tregellis 

thought he w;is safe in his bed an hour ago, 
Jim ! Jim ! " he shouted 

"He has certainly gone through the 
window," cried my uncle. "I believe these 
villains have enticed him out by some devilish 
device of their own. Hold the lamp, nephew ! 
Ha, I thought so ! Here are his footmarks 
upon the flower-bed outside," 

The landlord and one or two of the 


come to see you, Jim,*' said he — and then : 
u Good Lord, what is the meaning of 

The little chamber lay before us brightly 
illuminated by a brass lamp which stood 
upon the table. The bed-clothes had not 
been turned down, but there was an indenta- 
tion upon the counterpane which showed 
that someone had lain there. One-half of 
the lattice window was swinging on its hinge, 
and a cloth cap lying upon the table was the 
only sign of the occupant. My uncle looked 
round him and shook his head* 

u It seems that we are too late," said he. 

"That's his cap, sir. Where in the world 
can he have gone to with his head bare ? I 

Corinthians from the bar - parlour, had 
followed us to the back of the house. Some- 
one had opened the side door, and we found 
ourselves in the kitchen garden, where, 
clustering upon the gravel path, we were able 
to hold the lamp over the soft, newly-turned 
earth which lay between us and the window, 

" That's his footmark ! " cried Belcher. 
"He wore his running boots this evening, 
and you can see the nails. Bat what's this ? 
Someone else has been here, 1 ' 

" A woman ! " I cried. 

" By Heaven, you're right, Rodney," said my 

Belcher gl^ftiftlllW^yititirse. 

" nwRmMjFfflRFrtifflify to any girl 



in the village. I took particular notice of 
that. And to think of them coming in like 
this at the last moment." 

" Tis clear as possible, Tregellis," said the 
Hon. Berkeley Craven, who was one of the 
company from the bar-parlour. " Whoever it 
was came outside the window and tapped. 
You see here, and here, the small feet have 
their toes to the house, while the others are 
all leading away. She came to summon him, 
and he followed her." 

" That is perfectly certain," said my uncle. 
" There's not a moment to be lost. We must 
divide and search in different directions, 
unless we can get some clue as to where they 
have gone." 

"There's only the one path out of the 
garden," cried the landlord, leading the way. 
"It opens out into this back lane, which 
leads to the stables. The other end of the 
lane goes out into the side road." 

The bright yellow glare from a stable 
lantern cut a ring suddenly from the darkness, 
and an ostler came lounging out of the yard. 

" Who's that ? " cried the landlord. 

" It's me, master ! Bill Shields." 

" How long have you been there, Bill ? " 

" Well, master, I've been in an' out of the 
stables this hour back. We can't pack in 
another 'orse, and there's no use tryin'. I 
daren't 'ardly give them their feed, for, if they 
was to thicken out just ever so little " 

" See here, Bill ! Be careful how you 
answer, for a mistake may cost you your 
place. Have you seen anyone pass down 
the lane ? " 

"There was a feller in a rabbit-skin cap 
some time ago. 'E was loiterin' about until 
I asked 'im what 'is business was, for I didn't 
care about the looks of 'im, or the way that 
'e was peepin' in at the windows. I turned 
the stable lantern on to 'im, but 'e ducked 
'is face, an' I could only swear to 'is red 

I cast a quick glance at my uncle, and I 

saw that the shadow had deepened upon his 
face. ^ 

" What became of him ? " he asked. 

" 'E slouched away, sir, an' I saw the last 

" You've seen no one else ? You didn't, 
for example, see a woman and a man pass 
down the lane together?" 

"No, sir." 

" Or hear anything unusual ? " 

" Why, now that you mention it, sir, I did 
'ear somethin', but on a night like this, 
when all these London blades are in the 
village " 

"What was it, then?" cried my uncle, 

"Well, sir, it was a kind of a cry out 
yonder as if someone 'ad got 'imself into 
trouble. I thought, maybe, two sparks were 
fightin', and I took no partie'lar notice." 

" Where did it come from ? " 

" From the side-road, yonder." 

"Was it distant?" 

" No, sir ; I should say it didn't come from 
more'n two 'undred yards." 

" A single cry ? " 

" Well, it was a kind of a screech, sir, and 
then I 'eard somebody drivin' very 'ard down 
the road. I remember thinking that it was 
strange that anyone should be drivin' 
away from Crawley on a great night like 

My uncle seized the lantern from the 
fellow's hand, and we all trooped behind him 
down the lane. At the further end the road 
cut it across at right angles. Down this my 
uncle hastened, but his search was not a long 
one, for the glaring light fell suddenly upon 
something which brought a groan to my lips 
and a bitter curse to those of Jim Belcher. 
Along the white surface of the dusty high- 
way there was drawn a long smear of 
crimson, while beside this ominous stain 
there lay a murderous little pocket bludgeon, 
such as Warr had described in the morning. 

(To be continued.) 

by Google 

Original from 

The Princes Derby, 

Shown by Lightning Photography. 


|E are told that nothing is new. 
Out of the ancient zoetrope, or 
wheel of life, was evolved the 
gyroscope, which was exhibited 
in a gallery at the Polytechnic 
more than sixty years ago. 
This was a wheel of black silhouette figures, 
revolving before a mirror, and giving the 
appearance of vitality. Half a century or 
so later, Mr. Edison produced his kineto- 
seope — a band of progressive pictures passing 
before the eye applied to an optical peep-hole, 
and creating the effects of life and motion. 

During the Indian Exhibition last year, 
Mr, R. W. Paul, a clever electrical engineer, 
of Hatton Garden, made and exhibited the 
kinetoscopes there, and noticing the rush 
for these marvellous machines, he wondered 
if their fascinating pictures could be re- 
produced on a screen, so that thousands 
might see them at one time. This idea has 

been brought to a triumphantly successful 
issue, though not without infinite patience 
and ingenuity on the part of the inventor 
In Edison's machine the photos, are magnified 
six times only a whilst in Mr. Paul's apparatus, 
prints no bigger than a postage-stamp are 
projected on to a ten-foot screen. Plainly, 
then, such very high magnification calls for 
absolute perfection in the tiny originals. 

Briefly explained, the whole thing amounts 
to this : Hundreds of photographs are taken 
with amazing rapidity — say, twenty a second 
— on an enormous length of transparent 
celluloid ribbon. These photos, are subse- 
quently shown magic-lantern fashion, also 
with extreme rapidity, the result being " living 
pictures ?J which completely baffle description ; 
they must be seen to be appreciated. On 
this page Mr. Paul is seen with his unique 

"I ILJ. J\.:i ijI'a J I M. Y1T \K.\ I L'>. 

camera; he is looking into the "finder," 
ready to commence turning the hand- wheel 
the moment the desired picture comes into 





By means of the unique photographs 
reproduced in this article, we are able to 
critically examine literally every 
step of the Prince's Derby 5 the 
now famous race is, so to speak, 
placed under a microscope for 
our benefit First of all, wo 
just discern the leading horse 
in the distance. Then the 
horses draw nearer, and we 
notice their queer attitudes 
when at full speed— quite un- 
like the galloping horse of 
convention. We can realize 
from the photos, that the 
memorable Derby of 1896 was 
at the finish a contest between 
the favourites only, Earwig 
being quite a long way behind* 
The hotly - contested race is 
won as Persimmon and Watts 
vanish towards the left in illustration No. 13* 

Next is seen the beginning of the inevitable 

rush across the course. Notice 
the policeman in the fore- 
ground* The great race being 
over, he knows full well that the 
most arduous part of his duty 
has only just commenced* One 
can see his head turning round 
as the great river of humanity 
overwhelms the racecourse ; and 
the last photo, shows that the 
river has grown into a veritable 
sea of human beings, each wild 
with excitement and delight at 
having witnessed the most 
popular horse-race of modern 
times — the Prince's Derby of 

But to return to the method 

whereby these marvellous photos, were taken. 

The sensitive film is fed from a spool and 



passes an opening in front of the lens. The 
process of taking one scene is as follows : 
The film is moved forward 
exactly three-quarters of an 
inch (the width of the photo.) ; 
then it stops for the exposure, 
and moves on again for the 
next While the film is actually 
moving, the light has to be cut 
off by the revolving shutter so 
as to prevent blurring, the ex- 
posure occurring only when the 
film is quite stationary. All 
these conditions are necessary 
for every picture ; and yet Mr. 
Paul can take with this camera 
over 2,000 photos, per minute ! 
On the previous page is 
th.\ ^vulUu^s projecting ma- 
R jsjflifaO F Wn&HI'jibllton is made 




to pass step by step through a kind 
of magic lantern at precisely the same 
rate at which the photos, were 
taken. Each picture pauses in 
front of the lantern aperture 
just sufficiently long to appear 
momentarily on the screen, 
before being followed hy the 
next Thus the eye gets the 
different phases of the -scene 
presented in rapid order. While 
one photo, is giving place to 
the next, the lantern aperture 
is covered with a movable 
shutter operating at a speed 
which deceives the eye. Need- 
less to say, the mechanism is 
wonderfully delicate, containing 
an aluminium sprocket-wheel, a 
presser pad, a cam, a steel finger, 
and other comparatively un- 
interesting things. The camera and the pro 
jecting machine are identical in principle. 

Anyone who hasn't seen Mr. 
Pauls amazing "living photo- 
graphs' 1 has decidedly missed 
a sensational thing- Take the 
arrival of the Paris express at 
Calais s'atiom The great train 
appears in the distance, and 
rushes forward as though to 
overwhelm the audience, but 
presently slows down in time, 
and discharges its living freight 
amid a scene of bustle and 
excitement. The scene at West- 
minster, too, with its superb 
equipages, high-spirited horses, 
and passing crowds and omni- 
buses, fairly glows with life. 
Again, in the Hampstead Heath 
set t we see the swings and roundabouts going 
merrily, the children skipping and J Arry 

ko. 6, 


working off his traditional exuberance of spirit 
A " Rough Sea at Ramsgate" shows the 
breakers rolling in majestically, 
and the spray is thrown up in 
so realistic a fashion as to make 
the people in the stalls actually 
start involuntarily, lest they 
should be drenched ! 

But the great sensation is, 
beyond question, the "Prince's 
Derby'' of 1896, the most 
popular win the turf has ever 
known. Of course, Mr. Paul 
didn't know that the Prince 
of Wales was going to win 
the Derby ; he merely went to 
get the finish of that great 
race, having less concern with 
the " blue ribbon of the 

uffRSlfff)F^(*,N than withthe 



black ribbon of film which 
should show to countless 
multitudes one of the most 
popular events of the Victorian 
age. At all events, our inventor 
was on the spot, with the result 
that he deposited at these 
offices some 8oft. of celluloid 
ribbon, containing about 1,280 
unique instantaneous photo- 
graphs of the historical race. 
The story of this remarkable 
photographic feat is well worth 

Mr. Paul went down a few 
days before the Derby to make 
his arrangement^. Disappointed 
in the use of one of the 
stands, he at length rented a few square 
yards of ground from a man on the course, 

was in 

NO. B. 

whose legal rights were by no means well 
defined. The spot chosen was near Mr. 
D'Arcy's stand, on the opposite 
side to the Grand Stand, and 
about 20yds. past the winning- 

At five o'clock on the morn- 
ing of Derby Day, Mr. Paul 
set out for the Downs in a 
wagonette, with two assistants, 
and the camera shown on the 
first page of this article. As 
\n the case of other expeditions, 
great care was taken to provide 
the necessary appliances. 
Among the impedimenta were 
a number of beams of wood, 
wherewith to shore up the 
vehicle, so as to take the 
weight off the springs. This 

NOl 7. 

order that the camera might have 
a perfectly steady platform, Incidentally, 
the beams served another pur- 
pose : preventing the total 
annihilation of the entire party 
— wagonette, apparatus, and 
operators — by the surging 
thousands, who, at the finish of 
the race, became perfectly de- 
lirious with excitement, and 
were only kept from wiping out 
the hated intruders by being 
menaced with far-reaching clubs. 
It must have been a grand sight 
—the siege of the wagonette, I 
mean, not the race. No vehicle 
had ever been allowed on that 
spot before. Mr. Paul reached 
Epsom at eight o'clock, but his 
troubles commenced with his 
work. At ten, his erratic land- 
lord (who had received the rent in advance) 
turned up in a " Derby-Dayish " condition, 

Vol. xU..-1B, 

)y v^t 


Qritfhftl from 



and requested him to leave. That landlord 
must have felt strongly on the subject, for he 
spoke very strongly. Half an hour 
before the race, however, the 
man was removed, protesting. 

The adventurous trio fortu- 
nately had the minor races on 
which to practise beforehand, 
so that the exact range was 
soon revealed by the finder. 
Presently the old cry was raised 
with its accustomed force and 
volume, " Off I n sounded with 
sonorous unanimity from in- 
numerable throats. The Derby 
had begun. Hearts began to 
beat faster. E\*en philosophers, 
ready to recognise the supreme 
advantage of keeping cool in 
all circumstances, felt a peculiar 
sensation thrilling through their 
veins. Truly the pace was astonishing. The 
crowd by the starting-post had scarcely com- 

menced its mad rush across 
the Downs in the vain hope of 
getting a glimpse of the finish, 
when the field " began to tail," 
as the sporting reporters say. 
Tamarind and Toussaint were 
already out of it, and Per- 
simmon was so full of running 
that his jockey could be seen 
taking a pull at him. Almost 
before one could realize the 
rapid progress of events, the 
leaders were pounding away as 
hard as they could dow T n to 
Tattenham Corner, the purple 
and scarlet of the Prince gradu- 
ally forging to the front. But the 
mighty St. Frusquin was in no 
humour to be left behind, and came into the 
straight "going great guns." People held 

by LiOOgle 

their breath, and wondered, with palpitating 
hearts, what the result would be. There were 
only two in it The favourites 
left the others as if they were 
standing still, and the Derby 
of 1896 resolved itself into 
a close and desperate struggle. 
Cries for the Prince were already 
being raised, when St. Frus- 
quin made a magnificent chal- 
lenge, and it looked for an in- 
stant as if the spoils were going 
to Mentmore after all. Only 
for a moment, however. The 
Royal champion, full of running, 
answered with an invincible 
rush, and before he had reached 
the post the discerning multi- 
tude detected what was about 
to happen. The horses were 




a good twenty yards from the 
judge's box, but the verdict was, 
in the estimation of the populace, 
already assured. A few strides 
more, and there was no doubt 
about it. Cheering, which had 
already begun lustily, swelled 
into a surging, indomitable, all- 
conquering roar. It is easy to 
imagine the utter and complete 
abandonment of self-possession 
at that thrilling moment, when 
one united shout of semi-deli- 
rious joy broke from thousands 
of half-frantic spectators. 

And no wonder. More than 
too years have passed since a 
Prince of Wales won the Derby. 
Of the eleven runners competing for the great 
race in 1788 (the same number, curiously 


enough, ran in the historic Derby of 1896), 
the Prince — afterwards George IV, — supplied 
the favourite in his chestnut 
colt, Sir Thomas, 

But let us get back to our 
enterprising photographer, Mr, 
Paul Like a mariner whose 
vessel is in deadly peril, he stood 
with his hand on the wheel, 
looking anxiously along the vast 
expanse of green turf* Strange 
as it may seem, he commenced 
to turn the wheel eight seconds 
before the horses came into the 
"field"; of course, I mean the 
field of the camera. At first 
the photos, were taken at the 
rate of about iz a second, but 
during the exciting finish the 
pace increased to 30 and 35 a 

second, or over 2,000 pictures a minute. 
The operator slowed down somewhat when 
the two favourites had passed 
the winning - post, but the 
curious photos* of the crowd 
pouring over the course were 
taken at about 15 a second. 
It took Mr, Paul exactly a 
minute and three-quarters to 
take the whole scene — the 
complete set of 1,280 phct>- 

The inventor paid little heed 
to the appalling uproar that 
marked the finish of the race ; 
he only turned his wheel for 
dear life, and for the benefit of 
the public who weren't there. 
The moment the race was 
over, Mr. Paul whipped out 
the film, packed it up securely, 
and made a dash for Epsom Downs sta- 
tion, only regretting that he couldn't take 

15 Tt? 1 7. — t hk cnM'it^viAnAA "b ver the course. 




NfX t6 F 

the uproariously popular sequel to the race — 
the Prince of Wales leading in his superb 
horse, Persimmon. However, he had another 
worry on hand at the moment, for he was by 
no means sure that his prodigiously long 
negative was a photographic success. 

Mr. Paul, I say, left wagonette, camera, 
assistants, and everything else, and hurried 
back to London, reaching Hatton Garden at 
six o'clock. The assistants, by the way, re- 
commenced operations on the next race. 
The great negative was developed and hung 
up to dry at one o'clock in the morning. 
Later on the Thursday prints were made and 

tested in the inventor's work- 
shops at Saffron Hill, where a 
couple of projecting machines 
and a full-sized screen are 
always kept in readiness. Thus 
the same evening an enormous 
audience at the Alhambra 
Theatre witnessed the Prince's 
Derby all to themselves amidst 
wild enthusiasm, which all but 
drowned the strains of " God 
Bless the Prince of Wales," 
as played by the splendid 
orchestra. The favourites 
raced in once more with a 
tremendous stride, checking 
their speed only when the 
winning-post was passed ; next 
the laggard horses, and lastly 
a seemingly illimitable multitude which 
swarmed over the course as far as the eye 
could see. In short, the great race, as 
depicted by Mr Paul's animatographe, is a 
veritable marvel of modern photography and 

Reproduced in this article are several photos, 
selected from Mr, PauFs set of 1,280, Seen 
separately in this way the pictures look rather 
peculiar and it is difficult to realize from 
them the astounding actuality and life of the 
whole set when spun through the inventor's 
projecting machine. 

were seen 

NO, 17, 

by Google 

Original from 

For Dear Life! 

A Story of the West. 
By Denzil Vane. 

T'LL be a tough job, mates, 
but I reckon we'll have to go 
through with it" 

The speaker thrust the 
barrel of his revolver into 
his belt with a calm air of 
determination that heartened up his two 
companions. The two men belonged to 
an Anti- Lynching Association, formed for 
the suppression of lawless acts, miscalled 

" I know for certain sure," remarked a 
quiet ~ looking man, who had not spoken 
before, u that Dick Field never stole them 

"Anyway, he sha'n*t be hanged for horse- 

" That she is, and the tender-heartedest," 
put in Joe Saker, a tall, lank, bony-framed 
man. " Do you call to mind, when old Mother 
Peperdyne was sick, how that there gell 
nussed her to the very last ? I guess our 
Mirandy's young man's got a right to our 
purtection — even if he did nab them horses." 

u But I tell you he didn't. I know for 
certain sure he didn't/ asseverated the 
quiet-looking man, who was known in Miners* 
Gulch City as Silent Pete. " Brandy Ben 
owed Dick Field a grudge becos of a jolly 
good thrashing he got for telling a big lie 
about Mirandy. He swore he'd be even 
with him, It was him as set the story rolling 
that Dick had stole the nags. But Brandy 

_^Vii?fl^ s^ 

. „ r 


stealing if we can save him. The lad's a 
good fellow and goin J to be married, too, to 
the brightest gell in Miners' Gulch City/' 
declared the first speaker. 

Ben sperreted 'em away himself. I saw him 
a -drivin' 'em in the grey of the morning, and 
hes got 'em hid somewhere ; I guess in one 
of them cghrojjrey off down the river. Then 




he swore he'd seen Dick do the trick, and 
'twas he roused up the boys to be off on 
Dick's trail. " 

This was probably a longer speech than 
Silent Pete had uttered for years. Perhaps 
the unusualness of his harangue lent it a 
force it would not otherwise have possessed, 
for it was listened to with marked attention, 
both by Saker and Revell. The latter was 
the leading spirit of the triumvirate. He 
was an Englishman of good family, reputed 
to have been once an officer in the Queen's 
Guards. The story, whether true or false, 
certainly gave Vin Revell a halo of myste- 
rious splendour ; but, apart from that, he 
had now the good opinion of the rough cow- 
boys and miners of the district for two 
excellent reasons, namely, his prowess in the 
saddle, and his skill in the noble art of self- 

Vin Revell was, besides, a born leader of 
men. He had readiness of brain as well as 
physical courage. Consequently, he soon 
constituted himself uncrowned king of the 
community. It was he who had organized 
the self-constituted police force known as the 
Anti-Lynching Association. His two lieu- 
tenants, Silent Pete and Joe Saker, would 
have cheerfully died to do him a service. 
Revell never assumed any airs of superiority 
on the score of his supposed gentle birth or 
better education. He conversed, whether 
from habit or set purpose, in the idiom of the 
West, and used the turns of speech dear to 
their hearts. There was only one man in 
Miners' Gulch City who hated Revell, and 
that man was Brandy Ben. But, then, Brandy 
Ben was a scoundrel, a drunkard, and a liar, 
whose hand was against every man, and for 
whom no man had a good word. 

Only Miranda Wynter pitied the drink- 
soddened creature. And the ungrateful 
wretch had once dared to malign the gentle 
girl, who was adored and reverenced by even 
the roughest and most reckless of the many 
rough and reckless men who made Miners' 
Gulch City their head-quarters. Miranda and 
her mother kept the best store in the place, 
and in that isolated and primitive spot they 
were as safe as if they had lived in Broadway, 
New York, or Beacon Street, Boston. 

Miranda was engaged to be married to 
Dick Field, who was as fine a specimen of a 
Western American as one would wish to see. 
He, like the rest of the inhabitants of Miners' 
Gulch City, had a great admiration for Vin 
Revell, and the Englishman honoured young 
Field with a good deal of his society, and 
taught him how to handle the J 

foils and 

how to use his fists in the time-honoured 
British fashion. 

When the ugly story got about that Field 
had been guilty of an offence that is con- 
sidered the worst of crimes in the West — 
namely, horse-stealing — Revell and his two 
lieutenants were, with the exception of 
Miranda and her mother, almost the only 
believers in his innocence in the city. For 
Brandy Ben had told so plausible a story, 
and adduced so many facts which seemed to 
incriminate him, that a general hue and cry 
was raised among the more rowdy denizens 
of the township, ever ready for the chance of 
a " lark." 

To " dance a man from a tree," i.e., to hang 
him without benefit of clergy, judge, or 
jury, was a common punishment for the 
offence of which Field was accused. 

Two days before, Field had ridden off 
westward to take up a new " claim " at a 
distant location away on the frontier of the 
Indian Reservation. He was believed to 
have made off with the stolen horses, which 
he would sell there and return with the price 
to marry Miranda Wynter. The " boys " had 
already started on his trail. The chances 
were that they would overtake and lynch him 
before Revell and his two aides-de-camp 
could go to the rescue. 

The speech of Silent Pete was therefore 
received with becoming respect, without, 
however, interfering with their preparations 
for departure. Two minutes afterwards the 
three men were in the saddle, and their 
horses' heads were turned towards the wide, 
swelling prairie, across which the winds of 
Heaven swept unchecked for hundreds of 
desolate miles. 

The broad moon, nearly at the full, shone 
down on the grassy billows of the prairie. A 
solitary horseman, mounted on a sinewy 
mustang, sped westward. His broad-leaved 
hat was pressed down over his brows, his 
long hair streamed down to his square 
shoulders. The moon-lighted prairie stretched 
before him. He had ridden forty miles that 
day, and ten more must be covered before 
he reached the settler's shanty where he 
meant to snatch a few hours' rest for his 

Dick Field had no idea of the danger that 
menaced him. He was thinking of Miranda, 
and wondering if the mission on which he 
was bound would prove successful. 

Suddenly a wild halloa startled the still- 
ness of the night Turning in the saddle he 
saw half a mile away a d&:k blot on the dis- 




tant horizon. His eyes were preternatu rally 
keen and long-sighted. The dark blot 
separated into several black dots, which he 
perceived to be six in number. Six horse- 
men were riding swiftly towards him across 
the wide prairie. 

Not knowing of their evil intent, he slightly 
slackened speed and called back a shrill 
answering hal- 
loa. Another 
shout came 
ringing back. 
His horse had 
already shown 
signs of fatigue. 
The men be- 
hind him might 
bivouac, and 
the thought of 
rest and food 
was pleasant to 
htm. They had 
already gained 
on him> and he 
could see in the 
brilliant moon- 
light the glint 
of the metal on 
their horses' 
Another shrill 
halloa, coupled 
with his name, 
decided him, 
These men 
knew him— they 
might be friends. 
He knew of no 

In five minutes 
they had over- 
taken him. 

" We want a 
word with you, 
Field, 1 ' shouted the foremost of the band 

" Two, if you like," he called out, cheer- 

u You've stolen Reid's horses. Confess — 
out with the truth, or we'll drag it from 

Two of the band seized his horse's bridle,; 
a third levelled a revolver at his head, 

" Speak T or the barker! 1 do your business/' 
remarked the fellow, coolly. 

" Stolen Reid's horses ! Why, what the 
blazes should I do that for ? " 

" You know that better than we do. What 
we want to know is what you've done 
with 'em." 


" Do you s'pose I've ate 'em ? n retorted 

Field, sarcastically. 

"We guess you've hid 'em somewhere, 

and that you'll sell *em when the hue and 

cry's over I " 

u Come, now, that's a bit too strong," Field 

answered, hotly. "What in thunder sent 

you off on this fool's errand?" 

"Fool's errand 
or nut> I'll guess 
you'll get a rise 
in the world you 
won't like," re- 
marked one of 
the lads, signifi- 
cantly. "There's 
trees at White 
Man's Knoll." 

Then for the 
first time it 
dawned on 
Field that he 
was in a tight 
place. He had 
to deal with six 
men who some- 
how* or other 
had got hold of 
the idea that he, 
Dick Field, had 
been guilty of 
what, to them, 
w T as a crime at 
least equal to 
murder. Human 
life is of small 
account in the 
Wild West, but 
the kidnapping 
of horseflesh 
was a breach of 
the unwritten 
code of honour 
that was sacred 
Moses to the ten 

to them as the Law of 
tribes of Israel. 

" Own up and tell us what you've done 
with the nags, and we'll give you half an 
hour to say your prayers in. Come — guess 
we can't waste time here. White Man's 
Knoll isn't far, and we've a rope handy." 
He pointed to a stout coil fastened to his 

"Who set you on my tracks ? " demanded 

"That's not your business/ 

" But/' said Field, desperately, " you're on 
the wrong scent. I never laid a hand on 
Reid^.hoi^yii! n iLwyit.._it.. Perhaps the 




fellow who told this lying story was the thief 
himself* Yes," he went on, a flash of inspira- 
tion illuminating his dazed brain, " I'll bet you 
got your information from Brandy Ben. And 
I'll stake my bottom dollar that he could tell 
you a sight more about those nags than ever 
I could. The cunnin' beast ! He swore he'd 
spite me, and I'm blest if he ain't done it" 

" Come, move on, if he won't own up the 
truth. White Man's Knoll's but a mile 
away," remarked the rowdiest of the band, a 
big cowboy, known about the district as 
Arizona Charlie. 

The six men closed round Dick. Escape was 
hopeless. His only hope of getting out of this 
tight place lay in the chance that he might l>e 
able to convince some of the band 
that Brandy Ben and not he had 
stolen Reid's horses. The chance 
was a remote one, for no means 
of convincing them, save protes- 
tation, was likely to occur during 
the brief time that would pass be- 
fore the rope was round his neck. 

The band urged 
on their horses, and 
soon White Man's 
Knoll was reached. 
Field's hands were 
tied behind his 
back, the rope was 
adjusted round his 
throat by Arizona 
Charlie's skilled 
fingers, and finally 
he was led beneath 
the branch of a 
cotton - wood tree, 
to which the other 
end of the rope was 

*' Up on your feet," 
ordered his self- 
constituted execu- 

Field understood. 
He was to stand on 
the saddle ; then his 
horse would be 
goaded on and he 
— would be jerked 
out of the world, to 
go— whither ? This, 
then, was to be his 
end ! In this igno- 
minious way he was 
to suffer the penalty 
of another's crime ! 
And Miranda? She 

would hear of his fate ; would she believe 
in his guilt ? Ah, no, surely not. Then 
his despairing thoughts went out to his 
friend, Vin Re veil. Did Re veil know that this 
band of rowdy " rustlers 3J had ridden out from 
Miners' Gulch City bent on his destruction ? 

But his moments were numbered. He felt 
the rough contact of the rope against his 
skin. He glanced up at the thick branch of 
the cotton -wood tree and then round on the 
silent, silver-lighted earth. Farewell life! 
Farewell love ! Farewell Miranda ! 

*■ Now, then, up on your feet," repeated 
Arizona Charlie. 

He obeyed. As he did so his piercing 
glance searched the horizon. Far away, on 

" K,s 




the trail they had travelled, was a black splash, 
moving across the silvered sage-scrub. Field 
uttered a tremendous yell that pierced the 
clear air like a dagger. An answering cry 
came echoing back. The six men instinc- 
tively drew back from their prisoner. A 
hurried consultation took place, resulting in 
the decision to delay the execution for five 
minutes. That brief respite brought an 
element of hope into the situation. Each 
passing moment seemed to Field an age — a 
life-time, during which he suffered many 
times the pangs of death and the torturing 
pulsations of returning life. 

" By thunder ! They've got a prisoner, 
too ! " said Arizona Charlie, as he eagerly 
scanned the group of approaching horsemen. 
"We'll give Field -a pal to swing at his 

The horsemen were four in number, count- 
ing the prisoner. There were Vin Revell, the 
Englishman, Joe Saker, and Silent Pete. 
Hope sprang up full-grown and vigorously, 
conquering all other emotions in Field's 
breast : for under the slouched hat of the 
fourth horseman he recognised the bloated 
lace and sullen eyes of Brandy Ben. 

" We've done the job neatly, and not five 
minutes to spare," drawled Silent Pete, rein- 
ing in his horse under the spreading arms of 
the cotton-wood trees. " Guess we've saved 
you from making an orkard mistake, boys. 
Here we've the real criminal : caught him red- 
handed, driving Reid's horses along the track 
to White Water Creek. We picketed them 
down by the river and came on to save 
Field Ben Griffen," he went on, turning to 
the crouching figure of that notorious rascal, 
" own up ! " 

" Confess that you and no other stole 
Reid's horses," said Vin Revell, in loud, clear 
tones. " It's your only chance." 

" Yes, I took the burros, bad luck to them," 
grunted Brandy Ben, sulkily. 

" We ain't goin' to be done out of our 
spree, any way," declared Arizona Charlie, 
"in spite of your durned Anti-Lynching 
Association. We don't care a blamed red 
cent whether we hang Field or Brandy Ben. 
Someone's got to swing on this tree, that's 

" No man's going to be hanged without a 
fair trial. None of you will lay a finger on 
Ben Griffen. We'll just ride back to Miners' 
Gulch, and he'll be lodged in the gaol to 
await his trial. Field," he added, going up 
to the half-dazed ranchman, and cutting the 
thong of leather that bound his hands, 
" you're on the side of law and justice, eh ?" 

VoL xiu— 19. 

Digiiized by L^OOgle 

" I'm your man, for life or death, Revell," 
he said, brokenly. " If it's to be a fight, I'll 
stand by you to the last." 

But even cowboys and miners on the spree 
retain some shreds of common-sense. A 
fight between four such men as Revell, Saker, 
Pete, and Field against six good fellows with 
whom they had ridden and "pardeji," eaten 
and drunk in amity, was not to be seriously 
undertaken. Brandy Ben's wretched carcase 
wasn't worth that game of chance, anyway. 

" Guess we'll join your association, Revell. 
Lynching s a game that is pretty well played 
out now, 'cept you're dealing with niggers," 
drawled Arizona Charlie, calmly, unknotting 
the rope he had skilfully adjusted round 
Field's neck awhile since. 

" Right you are, my lad," cried Revell, 
heartily. "Well, this cotton-wood tree's a 
fine shelter. I^t's camp and sup under it." 

And in a quarter of an hour the tree that 
was to serve as gallows spread its protecting 
arms over a jolly party, every member of 
which was bent on contributing something to 
the common stock. Arizona Charlie had 
lighted a fire, Revell and some of the new 
members of the Anti-Lynching Association 
produced tinned meat and vegetables from 
capacious saddle-pockets. Field picketed 
the horses in a circle round Brandy Ben, 
whose wrists and ankles were tied with the 
rope that had galled his own throat. Silent 
Pete, who was an excellent cook, and com- 
monly carried one or two kitchen utensils 
strapped to his saddle, set himself to the 
congenial task of preparing supper for the 

When the round-faced moon looked down 
an hour later on the scene, she beheld ten 
sleeping forms stretched out in a radiating 
circle, of which the dying fire was the centre. 
Only one of the men, he who lay bound 
among the picketed mustangs, met the 
glance of the serene Queen of Night. It 
was Brandy Ben's turn now to taste the 
bitterness of despair. He writhed and twisted 
on the ground, striving to break his bonds. 
In vain he strove to wrench the knots that 
Arizona Charlie had so skilfully tied. Then 
suddenly an inspiration came to him. He 
rolled over and over towards the circle of 
horses and softly called his beloved mustang, 
Wildfire. The horse knew her master's 
voice, whinnied lovingly, and snuffed the 
prostrate body of the horse - stealer with 
affectionate solicitude. 

Brandy Ben possessed, with all his faults, 
one virtue : he loved his horse with almost 
Arab-like devotion. And as animals return, 




with generous interest, any kindness vouch- 
safed them, Wildfire now concentrated all 
her intelligence to understand and then to 
carry out her master's wishes, The panto- 
mime between master and horse was only 
witnessed by the silent moon. First, Brandy 
Ben writhed to his knees and held up his 
rope - bound hands towards Wildfire, who 
rubbed her nose tenderly against them* 
Then , informed perchance by some swift, 
feminine flash of intuition, she hit sharply at 
the knotted rope. 

Now his task was easy. In Wildfire's 
saddle-pocket was hidden a sharp, strong 
knife. A few swift cuts severed the rope 
which bound his ankles. At first the numbed 
muscles caused him agony, but the prospect 
of freed om, the thought that escape was now 
possible, made his heart beat fast and sent 
the warm blood coursing through his chilled 
body. He got on his feet and then cut the 
picketing rope, bounded on Wildfire's back, 
and soon the watching moon saw the freed 
prisoner galloping for dear life westward 


" Good lass ! Bite away, bite hard/' 
whispered Brandy Ben, tenderly. 

With right goodwill Wildfire gnawed at the 
knot The shreds of hemp gave way, slowly 
but surely ; at last the filaments yielded, and 
Brandy Ben's hands were free. 

across the silvered billows of the grassy 

Brandy Ben had won the recompense of 
his one virtue. The on]y creature in the 
world that loved him had saved him from the 
hands of his enemies. 

by Google 

Original from 

From Behind the Speaker s Chair. 





CMA[R k 

WRITING in the April number 
about the secret history of suc- 
cession to the Speaker's Chair, I 
said : u When towards the dose of 
the Session of 1883 Mr. Brand intimated his 
intention of retiring, Mr. (ioschen was the 
first man turned to by Mr, Gladstone with 
invitation to step into the vacant Chair. Mr, 
Gladstone next approached Sir Farrer 
Herschell, at the time Solicitor-General." 

Lord Herschell tells me this is not 
quite an accurate account of an episode in 
Parliamentary history recorded for the first 
time in these pages. The offer was first 
made to Sir Farrer Hersehellj and when he 
took the courageous and, as 4 it proved, far- 
sighted course of declining the tempting 
offer, Mr. (Ioschen was next approached. 
Mr, Gosehen, as I have said, reluctantly 
declined the honour on the ground of 
physical disability owing to short-sightedness* 
One who was present at the pathetic scene 
tells me how Mr, Gosehen, slow to abandon 
hope of presiding over the assembly of which 
he has long been an ornament, sat in the 
Speakers Chair, and with the collaboration of 
a few friends made experiment as to how far 
he was able to recognise faces at varying 
distances. The rehearsal convinced him of 
his inability to play the part assigned to 
him. So he withdrew 
from the nomination, and 
lived to be Chancellor ot" 
the Exchequer in a Con- 
servative Government, and 
First Lord of the Admiralty 
in a 4t Unionist " Adminis- 

It is a trite re- 
flection how 
from slight 
causes great 
events have birth- It is 
not too much to say that 
had Mr. Goschen 7 s eye- 
sight been of average 
strength, the history of this 
country during the last 
ten years would have been 
materially altered. With 
him in the Chair, Lord 
Randolph Churchill woukl <pr 
never have been reminded 
that he had ( * forgotten 


Goschen " ; on the contrary, he would at the 
beginning of the Session of 1887 have gone 
back to Lord Salisbury's Cabinet master of 
the position. There would never have been a 
Home Rule Bill of 1892, since Lord Randolph 
would have attempted, and would probably 
have succeeded in, the settlement of that 
burning question on the firm basis of 
" similarity, equality, and simultaneity ,r he 
had commenced to prepare during his brief 
Leadership of the House in 1886. 

Amongst the uniforms that blazed 
kilts at during the ceremony of the coro- 
court. nation of the Oar, none, I am 
told, attracted more admiring 
attention than one worn by a member of the 
House of Commons, who attended in certain 
diplomatic capacity. Although he represents 
an English county in the Commons, the ex- 
Attache is a Scot of ancient lineage, and when 
occasion presents itself, proudly wears the 
garb of GauL It seems a matter simple 
enough for a man of whatever nation, duly 
accredited to such a ceremony, to wear his 
national dress. But earlier experience at 
Court suggested the necessity of negotiating 
the matter of the kilt before it was packed 
up for Moscow, 

A few years ago the owner of this particu- 
lar costume was attached to the British 
Embassy at Berlin, On 
one occasion of State 
pageantry he proposed to 
wear his kilt Timely sug- 
gestion was made to him 
that the Emperor, who, un- 
like the lilies of the field, 
takes thought of what him- 
self and others shall wear, 
might object. On inquiry 
being made in the proper 
quarter the suspicion 
proved well founded. 
Consent to such an inno- 
vation at the Court of Ber- 
lin was sternly refused. A 
short time later, to the sur- 
prise of those in the secret 
— if, indeed, surprise is still 
possible to the entourage 
of the Emperor William - 
His Imperial Majesty one 
evening strutted forth in 

by Google 


the full toggery of kilts. 





At country houses, a question of 
growing difficulty is : Who is to 
clean the cycles ? In these days, 
guests of both sexes invited to 
country houses, if they do not 
travel thither on their bicycles, include the 
machine among their personal luggage, and 
use it daily through their stay- Under the 
old order of things, when a guest made use of 
the stable the horses on their return were, 
naturally, cared for by the stablemen. The 
bicycle is too new an institution to have yet 
established its full attendant service, There 
are few gentlemen's gentlemen who hold the 
cleaning of a bicycle to be among their daily 
duties. For a lady's-maid the suggestion h even 
more absurd. But bicycles in daily use have 
to be cleaned, and with a house-party of a 
dozen or a score, every one with his or her 
cycle, who is to look after the machines ? 

That is a question, 
pressing enough last 
autumn, which in the 
coming months may 
be expected to come 
to a head. Mean- 
while a difficulty is 
growing in the House 
of Commons as to the 
housing of bicycles 
during a sitting. The 
number of members 
who come down on 
the cycle is rapidly 
growing. There are 
few places of public 
meeting where its 
convenience is more 
marked. After a 

late sitting, closing with a big division, the 
supply of cabs in Palace Yard is altogether 
inadequate to the demand. First comers 
having been served, there ever remains some- 
thing like two hundred who have to go forth 
in search of cabs in the streets. The cyclist 
is, both coming and going, independent of the 
hansom cab, a fact which week by week 
members are more fully appreciating* 

Thus the difficulty of storing bicycles 
increases. Next Session we shall in all proba- 
bility have formal demand made upon the 
First Commissioner of Works to arrange at 
some convenient place in the courtyard stalls 
for bicycles, each one numbered, in supple- 
ment of the existing locker. 

The transmigration, much lamen- 
ted in the House of Commons, 
of Mr. David Plunket into Lord 
Rath more actually involves the 


by Google 

withdrawal from the scene of two esteemed 
members. Mr- Plunket was frequently 
accompanied in his attendance on his duties 
in the House of Commons by a beautiful 
collie dog. Of late years Cheviot found 
that " at my time of life/' as he might have 
said, quoting a consecrated phrase, regular 
attendance upon the House of Commons 
was more than could be expected of him. 
In earlier years he came down regularly at 
prayer-time, and remained till his master 
went off to dinner, sometimes sauntering 
down again after the meal, and waiting till 
the House was up. 

Cheviot was ? of course, not admitted 
within range of the Speaker's eye. He used 
to wait in the courtyard flanking the entrance 
to the Ladies' Gallery and leading on to the 
terrace. There he lay by the hour, silent, 
watchful, waiting for his master's step, the 

signal gaily to bound 
homewards. He was 
so old a Parliamentary 
hand that he was able 
infallibly to distinguish 
between the signals of 
the bells. When a 
division is called the 
bells tinkle in three 
several bursts* When 
all is over, and the 
cry, "Who goes 
home ? " reverberates 
through the lobby, 
the bell rings only 
once. Through a 
long sitting, when 
[OT ■ from time to time 

the division bell rang, 
Cheviot pricked up his ears and waited. 
When after a brief pause the bell began 
again with the second of the three peals, 
his head sank down on his paw and he 
dozed off The signal was to him like the 
chunk of old red sandstone to its recipient. 
"Subsequent proceedings interested him 
no more/' at least, not till the bell rang 

When the end came, and after a single 
outburst the bell stopped, Cheviot knew it 
was the home-going signal. IK- leaped to 
his feet, gambolled all over the yard with the 
glad certainty of presently hearing his master's 
footstep and his cheery voice. Cheviot is 
getting up in years now, has grown fat and 
prosperous, and is, happily, since circum- 
stances have so ordained his master's lot, 
more in sympathy with the slow respecta- 
bility of the House of Lords than with the 
Original from 




sometimes turgid 
vigour of the House 
of Commons. 



tqn's dog. 


dog that 
used to pay 
r eg u 1 a r 
visits to the House of 
Commons was the pro- 
perty of Lord Hart- 
ington. Though, like 
Cheviot, a collie, Roy 
was of less mercurial 
temperament, and as 
he crossed Palace Yard 
ever walked sedately 
at the heels of his 
master, not without a 
certain subtle gesture, 
as if he had almost 
caught the trick of 
lounging along with 
one hand in his 
trouser pocket. He 

did not long survive the disruption of the 
Liberal Party. Accustomed on his visits to 
the House of Commons to find a united 
party, buttressed by his master under the 
leadership of Mr Gladstone, he, when the 
trouble came, displayed remarkable reluct- 
ance to go down to the House, and finally 
discontinued his visits. 

Soon after he died, and now sleeps in an 
honoured grave, dug for him in the garden 
of Devonshire House, the roar of the life of 
Ixmdon falling on unheeding ears. 

Among his race, Roy enjoyed the rare 
distinction of being the only dog privileged 
to accompany a Cabinet Minister in attend- 
ance on the Queen at Balmoral. When Ix>rd 
Harrington, at the time a member of Mr. 
Gladstone's Government, took his first turn 
at Balmoral, he carried with him his insepar- 
able companion, Roy. There was some per- 
turbation amongst authorities of the Royal 
Household, who had never known such a 
thing done. This led to only greater triumph 
for Roy. The Queen making his acquaint- 
ance was so delighted with him, that next 
time the Secretary of State for War took his 
turn as Minister in attendance on Her 
Majesty, Roy was " commanded " to accom- 
pany his master. 

One summer afternoon during 
the Session Mr. Gedge had his 
devotions disturbed by obser- 

PRAYERS . ■■ . 

vation of a regrettable incident 
on the bench immediately opposite. Whilst 
the chaplain was approaching his last amen, 


the member for Stockport observed Sir 
Charles Dilke enter the House with that 
rapid step that always brings him first man 
out of the division lobby. Mr. Gedge, who 
is above all things charitably inclined, came 
to the conclusion that Sir Charles, having 
been unavoidably detained, was endeavouring 
to make up for lost time, bent upon securing 
as much as possible of the ghostly comfort 
with which prayer -time fills the House of 
Commons. Moved by sympathy with this 
desire, Mr, Gedge, opening a little wider the 
fingers of the hands spread in devotional 
gesture across his face, observed that Sir 
Charles was inserting in the receptacle at the 
back of his seat the small ticket bearing his 
name which would secure the place for him 
during the remainder of the evening. 

That was a shock to a man who 

he smelus had expected better things. But 

a rat. there was worse to follow. Sir 

Charles, by dint of diligent atten- 
dance, has secured the tenancy of the second 
seat on the front bench below the gangway. 
The corner seat is invariably occupied by 
Mr. Labouchere, the regularity of whose 
appearance in it is 
conveys to the mind 
an assurance that in 
gates the pain with 
I .a bo uc h er e attack 

disrespectfully of the House of Lords* It 
is an ancient and sacred condition of 
securing a particular seat in the House of 

a circumstance that 
of Mr. J. G. Talbot 
some measure miti- 
which he hears Mr, 
the Church and speak 

by Google 


Original from 






Commons that a member claiming it shall 
have been present at prayers. Every day the 
House is in Session Mr, La bou chore is 
found in the corner seat of the front bench 
below the gangway, Arga/, he must have 
been present at prayer-time, and as the con- 
tinual dropping of water weareth away a 
stone, so, in process of time, through the 
operation of this agency, Mr. Labouchere 
may be brought into a frame of mind in 
which he shall see eye to eye with the 
member for Oxford University. 

Mr. Gedge may, previously to 
this fateful afternoon, have taken 
the same view. Rude awaken- 
ing was at hand. As, almost 
petrified, grievously unmindful of the voire 
of the chaplain standing at the table, lit? 
opened still wider his fingers and 
peered with fuller freedom, he 
beheld Sir Charles Dilke take out 
of his waistcoat pocket another 
small card, and place it in the 
receptacle at the back of the seat 
from which Mr, Labouchere is 
wont to address in- 
convenient questions 
to Mr. Gedge*s right 
lion, friends on the 
Treasury Bench ! 
This done, Sir Charles 
folded his hands, bent 
his head, and assumed 
an attitude of prayer. 
This was 
too much 
for Mr, 
He felt it his duty to * 
interpose in the course 
of public business, in order to tell a 
shocked House what he had seen. The 
Speaker, in his diplomatic manner, declined 
to be drawn into reproof of individuals, but 
solemnly reaffirmed the principle that, in 
order to secure a seat, members must 
personally attend prayers. 

It is sad to reflect how the devo- 
human tional exercise which in the House 
depravity, of Commons precedes attention 
to mundane matters has, for 
generations, been made the occasion of 
bringing out that residuum of depravity which 
exists even among members of Parliament. 
Up to Viscount Peel's Speakership, the 
established custom was that members desiring 
to secure a seat might take the preliminary 
step thereto by planting out their hats at any 
hour of the morning after the doors were 









opened. The assumption was that the 
member owning the hat was in waiting within 
the precincts of the House, would enter 
at prayer - time, and at the close of the 
service, receiving a ticket, would complete 
the act of occupancy by inserting it at the 
hack of his bench. 

This worked well enough for a time, but 
it soon began to be whispered that old 
Parliamentary hands had possessed them- 
selves of two hats. One they, looking in at 
the House of Commons in the early morning, 
placed on the desired seat ; putting on the 
other, they went forth about their business. 

One day in the Parliament of 
1 880-5, M r * Mitchell Henry 
created a profound sensation by 
addressing the Speaker from a 
side gallery and blow- 
ing upon this little 
plot. It appeared 
that Mr. Henry, 
driving down in what 
he thought was good 
time to secure a seat, 
chanced to meet a 
well - known Liberal 
member wearing a 
new tall hat cantering 
in the park. On 
arriving at the House 
he was amazed to dis- 
cover, on the very scat 
he coveted, another 
hat, not quite so 
glossy, bearing the 
card of his hon. friend. 
There was evi- 
dently something 
wrong somewhere, 
and Mr. Henry, as did Mr + Gedge in the 
Session just closing, appealed to the 
Speaker. It was then Mr. Speaker Brand 
laid down that rule, a kind of Magna Charta 
for innocent members, that two hats are 
much worse than one, and that in the secur- 
ing of a seat only what was styled a working 
hat, in contradistinction to a supernumerary 
tile, would be recognised as securing a seat. 

In the last year of Mr. Peel's 

the card Speakership a new procedure was 

trick, approved, Strict enforcement of 

what had come to be known in 

text-books on Constitutional practice as the 

working hat principle obviously involved 

certain inconvenience, even danger, to 

precious lives. Members having placed their 

only hat on a desired seat, possibly some 

hours before the call to prayer, must needs 

Original from 





go about the corridors 
and passages hall ess. 
This ted to discom- 
fort, sometimes catarrh* 
An appeal was made 
to the Speaker, and 
after grave delibera- 
tion a new system was 
elaborated and sanc- 
tioned. A m i d gc neral 
cheering the Speaker 
announced that cards 
would be provided, 
obtainable at any hour 
of the morning after 

the House opened* These, placed upon a 
selected seat T would secure it until final 
appropriation was made at prayer- time. 

It is possible that when the announcement 
was made some frail breasts were flushed 
with wild hope* Cards had not hitherto 
been distributed till after prayers. If in lieu 
of the hats they were to be available at any 
hour of the morning, why should not a 
member look in, take a card, write his 
name on it 3 forthwith place it in the brass 
frame let into the back of the seat, 
and there an end of the business ? But Mr, 
Peel had not sat in the House of Commons 
for more than a quarter of a century and 
been four times elected to the Chair without 
learning a thing or two, When the new 
cards were available it was found they were 
too large to fit in the receptacle at the back 
of the seat, and that in order to obtain those 
particular cards it was still necessary to be 
present at prayers. Nothing was gained 
except the use of the hat during the morning* 
Till Mr, Gedge, fortuitously opening his 
fingers as he covered his face with his hands 
when he bent in prayer, chanced to observe 
Sir Charles Dilke's manoeuvre, it seemed that 
the system was impregnable, and that attend- 
ance at prayers would be an indispensable 
condition of securing a choice seat. Mr, 
Gedge's alertness spoiled that particular 
game for the Session, But the disclosure, as 
opening up fresh vistas of human duplicity, 
makes consideration of the situation not 
wholly relieved from anxiety. 

One of the pleasantest character- 
istics of political warfare in this 
country is that it never (or hardly 
ever) interferes with personal 
relationships. It is by no means 
an uncommon thing for two mem- 
bers of the House of Commons after what, 
looked down upon from the Strangers' Gallery, 
seemed a duel a la morf } to meet an hour 

Digitized by G< 




later at the dinner- 
table of a common 
friend, possibly one of 
the duellists as the 
host, chatting in in- 
timate cordiality. 

Within the last six 
years one great party 
has been riven by 
volcanic eruption. 
Political friends and 
colleagues of old 
standing have been 
parted by the breadth 
of the table in the 
House of Commons, or the space of the 
flooring below the gangway. That, a trial of 
peculiar bitterness, has served in some 
measure to vary the rule which still happily 
exists in respect of the ancient division of 
parties* Still, in some cases, even Liberals 
and Liberal Unionists maintain their former 
social relations. 

Early in the Civil War, when passion was at 
its hottest, a critical election took place at 
Southampton. A Liberal Home Killer fought 
the seat against a candidate who had seceded 
from the Liberal camp on the Home Rule 
question. Sir William Harcourt went down 
to Southampton on the polling day to help 
the Liberal candidate* When he returned* 
he had the satisfaction of informing Mr. 
Chamberlain* who happened to be his guest, 
that the " Unionist " had been beaten, and 
that Southampton had been recaptured 
under the Liberal flag. It was at the time 
a great political event, a significant turn of 
the tide* Its imminence, and the condition 
of affairs it indicated, had not prevented Mr, 
Chamberlain becoming the guest of one of 
his most redoubtable political adversaries* 
It is safe to assume that the conclusion of 
the matter did not disturb the cheerful 
serenity of the house-party at Mil wood. 

There is another personal rela- 
tionship enjoyed by Sir William 
Harcourt of older standing, of 
closer touch even, than that estab- 
lished with Mr, Chamberlain- The 
two men entered the House of Commons 
within three months of each other. They ran 
together neck and neck in the Parliamentary 
race, received Ministerial promotion on the 
same day, and worked hand in hand in the 
same department of the State. When the 
split came, one remained steadfast by 
the side of the statesman who had been 
their first chief. The other threw in his 

lot with the Dissentient Liberals. In 







subsequent debate in the House of 
Commons they were often personally pitted 
against each other, mutually dealing blows 
that made the rafters ring — or would have 
done so if there had been any rafters in the 
House of Commons. An eminent Con- 
servative lately remarked to Sir William 
Harcourt on the charm of this incident in 
the storm and stress of party warfare. 

" Ycj," said Sir William Harcourt, softly, 
with a wistful, far-away look in his eyes, " we 
are, as you may say, brothers." 

u So were Cain and Abel/' retorted the 
irreverent Conservative. 

The following note from Sir 
_ Charles Dilke explains itself : 

GORDON u T , Kr t nf 

„,„™ ™ 1" your June Number, Mr. 

Wl 1 TJX XO 

Khartoum.^ describing ' How Gordon 
Went to Khartoum/ says that 
*a member of Mr Gladstone's Cabinet from 
1880 to 1885, who from the Front Oppo- 
sition Bench listened to ' a speech of mine 
against the Soudan movement, heard it ( with 
ama/LMiuriu/ brniuu: I b was largely re- 
sponsible for sending Gordon to Khartoum. 
. . . Granville and he settled the whole 
business in the pauses of a quadrille at 
Waddesdon, the rest of the Cabinet knowing 
nothing about it until Gordon had received 
his orders,' 

"Mr, Lucy then goes on to tone down 
the story in language of his accustomed 
accuracy and courtesy, and I have no com- 
plaint to make of him, except that he took 
some gentleman of the Front Opposition 
Bench as having been a * member of Mr* 
Gladstone's Cabinet from 1S80 to 1885/ who 
cannot have been in that position. The only 

by Google 

such member who now sits on 
the Front Opposition Bench is Sir 
William Harcourt: the only such 
members in the House of Commons, 
except myself, are Sir William Har- 
court and Mr* Chamberlain, It 
is quite impossible that Sir William 
Harcourt can have made such a 
statement, for, although there is 
no obligation of Cabinet secrecy 
about the main facts, inasmuch as 
they were laid before Parliament, 
the alleged facts in this story are 
entirely without foundation, 

"Putting together two statements 
which were made by Lord Granville 
in the House of Lords and the 
despatches which were laid before 
Parliament, we find that on the 
1 6th January, 1883, Sir Evelyn 
Baring's request for a British officer to be 
sent to conduct the retreat from Khartoum 
was considered ; and that on the 18th 
January a meeting of members of the 
Cabinet took place at the War Office which 
decided that the then Colonel Gordon should 
go, not to Khartoum, but to Suakim to 
consult the friendly Sheiks, and to report 
upon the best means of bringing about the 
evacuation of the Soudan. From Lord 
Granville's statements in the House of Lords 
we find that he had previously heard that 
Colonel Gordon was willing, but apparently 
had only heard this about the time that Sir 
Evelyn Baring telegraphed for a British 
officer to be sent. The Cabinet approved 
the action taken by the Committee at the 
War Office, It appears from despatches laid 
before Parliament that the alteration by 
Colonel Gordon of his journey from one to 
Suakim to one to Cairo was approved by the 
Cabinet under circumstances which Colonel 
Gordon's telegrams described; also that 
when Colonel Gordon saw T Sir Evelyn Baring 
at Cairo, they revived the proposal of the 
latter for sending an officer — that is, Colonel 
Gordon himself — to Khartoum to personally 
conduct the evacuation. 

"The trivialities of the story as it concerns 
myself are as absolutely incorrect as the main 
serious suggestion. Of several visits which at 
various times I paid to Waddesdon, the 
nearest to the date of the 18th January was 
one which occurred on the 22nd June ; and 
as quadrilles are mentioned* I may perhaps be 
allowed to add that I was not aware that any 
took place at Waddesdon, and I, certainly, 
never witnessed one there." 

Original from 


HE large mansion of 
Louis Heckle, million- 
aire and dealer in gold 
mines, was illuminated 
from top to bottom* 
Carriages were arriving 
and departing, and guests were hurry- 
ing up the carpeted stair after passing under 
the canopy that stretched from the doorway to 
the edge of the street A crowd of onlookers 
stood on the pavement watching the arrival 
of ladies so charmingly attired. Lord Staf- 
ford came alone in a hansom, and he walked 
quickly across the bit of carpet stretched to 
the roadway, and then more leisurely up the 
broad stair. He was an athletic young fellow 
of twenty-six, or thereabouts. The moment 
he entered the large reception-room his eyes 
wandered, search! ngly, over the gallant 
company, apparently looking for someone 
whom he could not find. He passed 
into a further room, and through that into 
a third, and there his searching gaze met the 
stare of Billy Heckle. Heckle was a young 
man of about the same age as Lord Stans- 
ford, and he also was seemingly on the look- 
out for someone among the arriving guests. 
The moment he saw Lord Stansford a slight 
frown gathered upon his brow, and he moved 
among the throng towards the spot where 
the other stood. Stansford saw him coming, 
and did not seem to be so pleased as might 
have been expected, but he made no motion 
to avoid the young man, who accosted him 
without salutation. 

u Look here," said Heckle, gruffly, " I want 
a word with you," 

41 Very well," answered Stansford, in a low 
voice ; "so long as you speak in tones no one 
else can hear, I am willing to listen. 1 * 

VdL sii.- 20. Copyright, %$q6 t by Robert Barr, 

tl You will listen, whether or no," replied 
the other, who, nevertheless, took the hint 
and subdued his voice. " I have met you 
on various occasions lately, and I want 
to give you a word of warning. You seem 
to be very devoted to Miss Linderham, so 
perhaps you do not know she is engaged to 

" I have heard it so stated*" said Lord 
Stansford, " but I have found some difficulty 
in believing the statement." 

il Now, see here," cried the horsey young 
man, " I want none of your cheek, and I 
give you fair warning thatj if you pay any 
more attention to the young lady, I shall 
expose you in public, I mean what I say, 
and I am not going to stand any of your 

Lord Stansford" s face grew pale, and he 
glanced about him to see if by chance any- 
one had overheard the remark. He seemed 
about to resent it, but finally gained control 
over himself and said : — 

"We are in your father's house, Mr 
Heckle, and I suppose it is quite safe to 
address a remark like that to me ! " 

i( I know it's quite safe— anywhere," re- 
plied Heckle. " You've got the straight 
tip from me ; now see you pay attention to 

Heckle turned away, and Lord Stansford, 
after standing there for a moment, wandered 
back to the middle room. The conversation 

in the 




had taken place somewhat near a heavily- 
curtained window, and the two men stood 
slightly apart from the other guests. When 
they left the spot the curtains were drawn 
gently apart, and a tall, very handsome young 
lady stepped from between them. She 
watched Lord Stans ford's retreat for a 
moment and then made as though she 
would follow him, hut one of her admirers 
came forward to claim her hand for the 
first dance. " Music has just begun in 
the ball-room, :? he said. She placed her 
hand on the arm of 
her partner and went out 
with him. 

When the dance was 
over, she was amazed to 
see Lord Stansford still 
in the room. She had 
expected him to leave, 
when the son of his host 
spoke so insultingly to 
him, but the young man 
had not departed. He 
appeared to he enjoying 
himself immensely, and 
danced through every 
dance with the utmost 
devotion, which rather 
put to shame many of 
the young men who 
lounged against the walls; 
never once, however, did 
he come near Miss 
Linderham until the 
evening was well on, 
and then he passed her 
by accident. She touched 
him on the arm with her 
fan, and he looked 
quickly around. 

* £ Oh, how do you do, 
Miss Linderham ? 7I he 

u Why have you ignored 
me all the evening?" 
she asked, looking at him 
with sparkling eyes. 

11 1 haven't ignored 
you/ 5 he replied, with 
some embarrassment ; "I did not know you 
were here/' 

" OJi, that is worse than ignoring," replied 
Miss Linderham, with a laugh; " but now 
that you do know I am here, I wish you to 
take me into the garden. It is becoming 
insufferably hot in here.' 1 

" Yes/' said the young man, getting red in 
the face, u it is warm." 





The girl could not help noticing his 
reluctance, but nevertheless she took his ami, 
and they passed through several rooms to the 
terrace which faced the garden. Lord 
Stansford's anxious eyes again seemed to 
search the rooms through which they passed, 
and again, on encountering those of Billy 
Heckle, Miss Linderham's escort shivered 
slightly as he passed on, The girl wondered 
what mystery was at the bottom of all this, 
and with feminine curiosity resolved to find 
out, even if she had to ask Lord Stansford 
himself They sauntered 
along one of the walks 
until they reached a seat 
far from the house. The 
music floated out to 
them through the open 
windows, faint in the 
distance, Miss Linder- 
ham sat down and 
motioned !x)rd Stansford 
to sit beside her, M N T ow," 
she said, turning her 
handsome face full upon 
htm, ( *why have you 
avoided me all the 
evening ? 7? 

" I haven't avoided 
you," he said. 

%i Tut, tut, you mustn't 
contradict a lady, you 
know, I want the reason, 
the real reason, and no 

Before the ynung man 
could reply, Billy Heckle, 
his face flushed with 
wine or anger, or perhaps 
both, strode down the 
path and confronted 

14 1 gave you your 
warning," he cried. 

Lord Stansford sprang 
to his feet ; Miss Linder- 
ham arose also, and 
looked in some alarm 
from one young man to 
the other. 
" Stop a moment, Heckle ; don't say a 
word, and I will meet you where you like 
afterwards, 1 ' hurriedly put in his lordship. 

" Afterwards is no good to me," answered 
Heckle. w I gave you the tip, and you haven't 
followed it." 

" I beg you to remember," said Stansford, 
in a low voice with a tremor in it, " there 
is a lady present | ffom 




Miss Linderham turned to go. 

"Stop a moment/' cried Heckle; "do 
you know who this man is?" 

Miss Linderham stopped, but did not 

11 IT1 tell you who he is: he is a hired guest 
My father pays five guineas for his presence 
here to-night, and every place you have met 
him, he has been there on hire. That's the 
kind of man Lord Stansford is. i told you 
I should expose you. Now I am going to 
tell the others." 

Lord Stanford's face was as white as 
paper. His teeth were clinched, and taking 
one quick step forward, he smote Heckle 
fair between the two eyes and felled him to 
the ground. 


"You cur!" he cried. "Get up, or I 
shall kick you, and hate myself for ever 
after for doing it," 

Young Heckle picked himself up, cursing 
under his breath, 

" I'll settle with you, my man," he said, 
Mil get a policeman. You'll spend the 
remainder of this night in the cells*" 

" I shall do nothing of the sort," answered 

Digitized by GOGgle 

Lord Stansford, catching him by both wrists 
with an iron grasp. " Now pay attention to 
me, Billy Heckle: you feel my grip on your 
wrists ; you felt my blow in your face t didn^t 
you? Now you go into the house by what- 
ever back entrance there is, go to your room, 
wash the blood off your face, and stay there, 
otherwise, by God, I'll break both of your 
wrists as you stand here/' and he gave the 
wrists a wrench that made the other wince, 
big and bulky as he was. 
"I promise," said Heckle, 
41 Very well, see that you keep your 

Young Heckle slunk away, and Lord 
Stansford turned to Miss Linderham, who 
stood looking on, speechless with horror 
and surprise. 

"What a brute you 
are," she said, with a 
quiver in her under-lip. 
"Yes," he replied, 
quietly. " Most of us 
men are brutes when 
you take a little of the 
varnish off. Won't you 
sit down, Miss Linder 
ham ? There is no need 
now to reply to the 
question you asked me: 
the incident you have 
witnessed, and what you 
have heard, has been its 

The young lady did 
not sit down ; she stood 
looking at him, her eyes 
softening a trifle, 

"It is true, then?" 
she said* 

14 Is what true ? " 
11 That you are here 
as a hired guest ?" 
"Yes, it is true," 
"Then why did you 
knock him down, if it 
was the truth ? " 

" Because he spoke 
the truth before you." 
" I hope, Lord Stans- 
ford, you don't mean to imply that 1 am in 
any way responsible for your ruffianism?" 

M You are, and in more than one sense of 
the word. That youiitf fellow threatened me 
when I came here to-night, knowing that I 
was his father's hired guest ; I did not wish 
exposure, and so I avoided you. You spoke 
to me, and asked me to bring you out here. 
I came, knowing that if Heckle saw rtie he 




would carry out his threat He has carried 
it out, and I have had the pleasure of knock- 
ing him down." 

Miss Linderham sank upon the seat, and 
once more motioned with her fan for him to 
take the place beside her. 

" Then you receive five guineas a night for 
appearing at the different places where I have 
met you ? " 

"As a matter of fact," said Stansford, " I 
get only two guineas. I suppose the other 
three, if such is the price paid, go to my 

" I thought Mr. Heckle was your employer 

" I mean to the company who let me out, 
if I make myself clear ; Spink and Company. 
Telephone 100,803. If ) 7 ° u should ever 
want an eligible guest for any entertainment 
you give, and men are scarce, you have only 
to telephone them, and they will send me to 

" Oh, I see," said Miss Linderham, tapping 
with her fan upon her knee. 

" It is only justice to my fellow-employes," 
continued Lord Stansford, " to say that I 
believe they are all eligible young men, but 
many of them may be had for a guinea. The 
charge in my case is higher, as I have a title. 
I have tried to flatter myself that it was my 
polished, dignified manner that won me the 
extra remuneration ; but after your exclama- 
tion on my brutality to-night, 1 am afraid I 
must fall back on my title. We members of 
the aristocracy come high, you know." 

There was silence between them for a few 
moments, and then the girl looked up at him 
and said : — 

" Aren't you ashamed of your profession, 
Lord Stansford ? " 

" Yes," replied Lord Stansford, " I am." 

" Then why do you follow it ? " 

" Why does a man sweep a street-crossing ? 
Lack of money. One must have money, 
you know, to get along in this world ; and 
I, alas, have none. I had a little once ; I 
wanted to make it more, so gambled — and 
lost. I laid low for a couple of years, and 
saw none of my old acquaintances ; but it 
was no use, there was nothing I could turn 
my hand to. This profession, as you call it, 
led me back into my old set again. It is 
true that many of the houses I frequented 
before my disaster overtook me, do not hire 
guests. I am more in demand by the new- 
rich, like Heckle here, who, with his precious 
son, does not know how to treat a guest, even 
when that guest is hired." 

11 But I should think," said Miss Linderham, 

11 that a man like you would go to South 
Africa or Australia, where there are great 
things to be done. I imagine, from the 
insight I have had into your character, you 
would make a good fighter. Why don't you 
go where fighting is appreciated, and where 
they do not call a policeman ? " 

" I have often thought of it, Miss Linder- 
ham, but you see, to secure an appointment, 
one needs to have a certain amount of influ- 
ence, and be able to pass examinations. I 
can't pass an examination in anything. I have 
quarrelled with all my people, and have no 
influence. To tell you the truth, I am 
saving up money now in the hope of being 
able to buy an outfit to go to the Cape." 

" You would much rather be in London, 
though, I suppose ? " 

"Yes, if I had a reasonably good income." 

" Are you open to a fair offer ? " 

" What do you mean by a fair offer ? " 

" I mean, would you entertain a proposal 
in your present line of business for a 
remuneration ? " 

The young man sat silent for a few moments 
and did not look at bis companion. When 
he spoke there was a shade of resentment in 
his voice. 

" I thought you saw, Miss Linderham, that 
I was not very proud of my present 

" No, but as you said, a man will do any- 
thing for money." 

" I beg your pardon for contradicting you, 
but I never said anything of the sort." 

" I thought you did, when you were speak- 
ing of the crossing-sweeping; but never mind. 
I know a lady who has plenty of money ; she 
is an artist ; at least, she thinks she is one, 
and viishes to devote her life to art. She is 
continually pestered by offers of marriage, 
and she knows these offers come to her 
largely because of her money. Now, this 
lady wishes to marry a man, and will settle 
upon him two thousand pounds a year. 
Would you be willing to accept that offer if 
I got you an introduction ? " 

4i It would depend very much on the lady," 
said Stansford. 

" Oh, no, it wouldn't, for you would have 
nothing whatever to do with her except that 
you would be her hired husband. She wants 
to devote herself to painting, not to you, 
don't you understand ; and so long as you did 
not trouble her, you could enjoy your two 
thousand pounds a year. You, perhaps, 
might have to appear at some of the recep- 
tions she would give, and I have no doubt 
she would add fiv-^ guineas an evening for 




your presence* That would be an extra, you 

There was a long silence between them 
after Maggie Under ham ceased speaking. 
The young man kicked the gravel with his 
toes, and his eyes were bent upon the path 
before him. " He is thinking it over/' said 
Miss Linderham to herself. At last Lord 
Stansford looked up, with a sigh. 

u Did you see the late scuffle between the 
unfortunate Heckle and myself?" 

" Uid I see it ? T? she asked. " How could 
I help seeing it? " 

"Ah, then, did you notice that when he 
was down I helped him up?" 

" Yes ; and threatened to break his wrists 
when you got him up," 

61 Quite so, I should have done it, too, if 
he had not promised. But what I wanted to 
call your attention to, was the fact that he 
was standing up when I struck him, and I 
want also to impress upon you the other fact, 
that I did not hit him when he was down. 
Did you notice that ? w 

l * Of course, I noticed it, No man would 
hit another when he was down." 

"I am very glad. Miss Underhand that 
you recognise it as a code of honour with 
us men, brutes as we are. Don't you think a 
woman should be equally generous ? " 

" Certainly, but I don't see what you mean." 

" I mean this, Miss Linderham, that your 
offer is hitting me when I'm down." 

41 Oh!" exclaimed Miss Linderham, in 
dismay. "I'm 
sure I beg your 
pardon ; I did not 
look at it in that 

i( Oh, it doesn't 
ma 1 1 er v er y m uch , n 
said Stansford, 
rising; '* it's all 
included in the 
two guineas, but 
Fm pleased to 
think I have some 
self- respect left, 
arid that I can 
refuse your lady, 
and will not be- 
come a hired 
husband at two 
thousand pounds 
a year. May I 
see you back to 
the house. Miss 
Linderham ? As 
you are well 

aware, I have duties towards other guests 
who are not hired, and it is a point of 
honour with rne to earn my money. I 
wouldn't like a complaint to reach the ears of 
Spink and Company." 

Miss linderham rose and placed her hand 
within his arm. 

a Telephone, what number ? " she asked. 

li Telephone 100,803," ^ e answered. " I 
am sorry the firm did not provide me with 
some of their cards when I was at the office 
this afternoon." 

" It doesn't matter," said Miss Linderham ; 
" I will remember," and they entered the 
house together* 

Next day, at a large studio in Kensington, 
none of the friends who had met Miss 
Linderham at the ball the evening before 
would have recognised the girl ; not but 
what she was as pretty as ever, perhaps a little 
prettier, with her long white pinafore and her 
pretty fingers discoloured by the crayons she 
was using. She was trying to sketch out on the 
canvas before her the figure of a man, striking 
out from the shoulder, and she did not seem 
to have much success with her drawing, 
perhaps because she had no model, and 
perhaps because her mind was pre-oceupied. 
She would sit for a long time staring at the 
canvas, and then jump up and put in lines 
which did not appear to bring the rough 
sketch any nearer perfection. 

The room was large, with a good north 
window, and scattered about were the 


BE SO FABClMjQlJdp Jii^fiBfofifltJ. * 




numberless objects that go to the confusing 
make-up of an artist's workshop. At last Miss 
Linderham threw down her crayon, went to 
the end of the room where a telephone hung, 
and rang the bell. 

"Give me," she said, " 100,803." 

After a few moments of waiting, a voice 

"Is that Spink and Company?" she 

" Yes, madam," was the reply. 

" You have in your employ Lord Stansford, 
I think?" 

"Yes, madam." 

" Is he engaged for this afternoon ? " 

" No, madam." 

" Well, send him to Miss Linderham, No. 
2,044, Cromwell Road, South Kensington." 

The man at the other end wrote the 
address and then asked : — 

" At what hour, madam ? " 

" I want him from four till six o'clock." 

"Very well, madam, we shall send him." 

" Now," said Miss Linderham, with a sigh 
of relief, " I can have a model who will strike 
the right attitude. It is so difficult to draw 
from memory." 

The reason why so many women fail as 
artists, as well as in many other professions, 
may be because they pay so much attention 
to their own dress. It is an astonishing fact 
to record that Miss Linderham sent out for a 
French hairdresser, who was a most expensive 
man, and whom she generally called in only 
when some very important function was about 
to take place. 

" I want you," she said, " to dress my hair 
in an artistic way, and yet in a manner that 
will seem as if no particular trouble had been 
taken with it. Do you understand me ? " 

" Ah, perfectly, mademoiselle," said the 
polite Frenchman. " You shall be so fasci- 
nating, mademoiselle, that " 

"Yes," said Miss Linderham, "that is 
what I want." 

At three o'clock she had on a dainty gown. 
The sleeves were turned up as if she were 
ready for the most serious work. The spotless 
pinafore which covered this dress had the 
most fetching little frill around it ; all in all, it 
was doubtful if any studio in London, even 
one belonging to the most celebrated painter, 
had in it as pretty a picture as Miss Maggie 
Linderham was that afternoon. At three 
o'clock there came a ring at the telephone, 
and when Miss Linderham answered the call, 
the voice which she had heard before said : — 

"I am very sorry to disappoint you, 
madam, but Lord Stansford resigned this 

Digitized by Gi 

afternoon. We could send you another man 
if you liked to have him." 

"No, no," cried Miss Linderham, and the 
man at the other end of the telephone actually 
thought she was weeping. 

" No, I don't want anyone else. It doesn't 
really matter." 

" The other man," replied the voice, 
" would be only two guineas, and it was five 
for Lord Stansford. We could send you a 
man for a guinea, although we don't recom- 
mend him." 

" No," said Miss Linderham, " I don't 
want anybody. I am glad Lord Stansford 
is not coming, as the little party I proposed 
to give has been postponed." 

"Ah, then, when it does come off, madam, 
I hope " 

But Miss Linderham hung up the receiver, 
and did not listed to the recommenda- 
tions the man was sending over the wire 
about his hired guests. The chances are 
that Maggie Linderham would have cried 
had it not been that her hair was so nicely, 
yet carelessly, done ; but before she had time 
to make up her mind what to do, the trim 
little maid came along the gallery and down 
the steps into the studio, with a silver 
salver in her hand, and on it a card which 
she handed to Miss Linderham ; who picked 
up the card and read, " Richard Stansford." 

" Oh," she cried, joyfully, " ask him to 
come here." 

" Won't you see him in the drawing-room, 
miss ? " 

"No, no; tell him I am very busy, and 
bring him to the studio." 

The maid went up the stair again. Miss 
Linderham, taking one long, careful glance 
at herself, looking over her shoulder in the 
long mirror, and not caring to touch her 
wealth of hair, picked up her crayon and 
began making the sketch of the striking man 
even worse than it was before. She did not 
look round until she heard Lord Stansford's 
step on the stair, then she gave an exclama- 
tion of surprise on seeing him. The young 
man was dressed in a wide-awake hat, and 
the costume which we see in the illustrated 
papers as picturing our friends in South 
Africa. All he needed was a belt of cart- 
ridges and a rifle to make the picture 

" This is hardly the dress a man is sup- 
posed to wear in London when he makes an 
afternoon call on a lady. Miss Linderham," 
said the young man, with a laugh, " but I 
had either to come this way or not at all, for 
my time is very limited. I thought it was 




too bad to leave the country without giving 
you an opportunity to apologize for your con- 
duct last night, and for the additional insult 
of hiring me for two hours this afternoon. 
And so, you see, I came/ 1 

**I am very glad you did," replied Miss 
Linderham, '* I was much disappointed 
when they telephoned me this afternoon that 
you had resigned, I must say that you look 
exceedingly well in that outfit, Lord Stans- 

** Yes/" said the young man, casting a 
glance over himself; " I must admit that it is 
rather becoming. I have had the pleasure 
of attracting a good deal of attention as I 
came along the street" 

M They took you for a cow-boy, I suppose ? n 

w Well t something of that sort. The small 
boy, I regret to say, was so unfeeling as to 
sing * He's got ? em on/ and other ribald 
ditties of that kind, which they seemed to 
think suited the occasion* But others looked 
at me with great respect, which compensated 
for the disadvantages. Will you pardon the 
rudeness of a pioneer, Miss Linderham, when 
I say that you look even more charming in the 
studio dress than you did in ball-costume, 
and I never thought that could be possible ?" 

" Oh ? fJ cried the 
girl, flushings 
perhaps because 
the crimson paint 
on the palette she 
had picked up 
reflected on hei 
cheek. "You must 
excuse this work- 
ing garb, as I did 
not expect visitors. 
You see, they 
telephoned to me 
that you were not 

The deluded 
young man ac- 
tually thought this 
statement was cor- 
rect, which in part 
it was, and he 
believed also that 
the luxuriant hair 
tossed up here and 
there with seeming 
carelessness was 
not the result of an 
art far superior to 
any the girl herself 
had ever put upon 

** So you are off to South Africa ?" she said, 

" Yes, the Cape/' 

u Oh, is the Cape in South Africa ? " 

" Well, I think so/ 1 replied the young man, 
somewhat dubiously, " but I wouldn't be 
certain about it, though the steamship com- 
pany guarantee to land me at the Cape, 
wherever it is." 

The girl laughed. 

" You must have given it a great deal of 
thought/' she said, *' when you don't really 
know where you are going/ 1 

" Oh, I have a better idea of direction than 
you give me credit for. I am not such a fool 
as I looked last night, you know ; then I 
belonged to Spink and Company, and was 
sub-let by them to old Heckle; now I belong 
to myself and South Africa. That makes a 
world of difference, you know/' 

"I see it does," replied Miss Linderham. 
" Won't you sit down ? " 

The girl herself sank into an armchair, 
while Stansford sat on a low table, swinging 
one foot to and fro, his wide -brimmed hat 
thrown back, and gazed at the yirl until she 
reddened more than even Neither spoke for 
some moments. 

" Do you know/' said Stansford at last, 
£i that when I look at you South Africa seems 
a long distance away ! " 



. HltAVV 





" I thought it was a long distance away," 
said the girl, without looking up. 

" Yes ; but it's longer and more lonel/ 
when one looks at you. By Jove, if I thought 
I couldn't do better, I would be tempted to 
take that two thousand a year offer of yours 
and " 

u It wasn't an offer of mine," cried the girl, 
hastily. " Perhaps the lady I was thinking 
of wouldn't have agreed to it, even if I had 
spoken to her about it." 

44 That is quite true ; still, I think if she had 
seen me in this outfit she would have thought 
me worth the money." 

" You think you can make more than two 
thousand a year out in South Africa ? You 
have become very hopeful all in a moment. 
It seems to me that a man who thinks 
he can make two thousand a year is very 
foolish to let himself out at two guineas an 

" Do you know, Miss Linderham, that was 
just what I thought myself, and I told the 
respectable Spink so, too. I told him I had 
had an offer of two thousand a year in his 
own line of business. He said that no firm 
in London could afford the money. ' Why,' 
he cried, waxing angry, * I could get a Duke 
for that.' 

" * Well/ I replied, 'it is purely a matter of 
business with me. I was offered two thousand 
pounds a year as ornamental man by a most 
charming young lady, who has a studio in 
South Kensington, and who is herself, when 
dressed up as an artist, prettier than any 
picture that ever entered the Royal Academy '; 
that's what I told Spink." 

The girl looked up at him, first with in- 
dignation in her eyes, and then with a smile 
hovering about her pretty lips. 

" You said nothing of the sort," she 
answered, " for you knew nothing about this 

studio at that time, so you see I am not 
going to emulate your dishonesty by pretend- 
ing not to know you are referring to me." 

" My dishonesty ! " exclaimed the young 
man, with protest in his voice. " I am 
the most honest, straightforward person 
alive, and I believe I would take your 
two thousand a year offer if I didn't think I 
could do better." 

" Where, in South Africa ? " 

" No, in South Kensington. I think that 
when the lady learns how useful I could be 
around a studio — oh, I could learn to wash 
brushes, sweep out the room, prepare can- 
vases, light the fire ; and how nicely I could 
hand around cups of tea when she had her 
' At Homes/ and exhibited her pictuies ! 
When she realizes this, and sees what a 
bargain she is getting, I feel almost certain 
she will not make any terms at all." 

The young man sprang from the table, and 
the girl rose from her chair, a look almost 
of alarm in her face. He caught her by the 

"What do you think, Miss Linderham? 
You know the lady. Don't you think she 
would refuse to have anything to do with a 
cad like Billy Heckle, rich as he is, and 
would prefer a humble, hard-working farmer 
from the Cape ? " 

The girl did not answer his question. 

" Are you going to break my arms as you 
threatened to do his wrists last night ? " 

" Maggie," he whispered, in a low voice, 
with an intense ring in it, " I am going to 
break nothing but my own heart if you 
refuse me." 

The girl looked up at him with a smile. 

" I knew when you came in you weren't 
going to South Africa, Dick," was all she 
said, and he, taking advantage of her help- 
lessness, kissed her. 

by Google 

Original from 

Through a Telescope. 

By Sir Robert Ball. 

lKiiir ' ; 

L* - ■ ■ 

**^ jMfc'» 


iitii" ^ 

|Wi^ 4***^-fl 1 

l I^JUklR - wwC •# 



Fnnn a Photo, by Stuinu Cambridge, 

N the course of the present 
year we have to celebrate the 
fiftieth anniversary of one of 
the most famous astronomical 
discoveries of modern times : 
indeed, it may truly be said, 
of one of the most famous discoveries ever 
made in the whole annals of astronomy* 
There is no chapter in the history of science 
which contains incidents of a more dramatic 
character than those which are described in 
the narrative of the discovery of the planet 
Neptune, Nor are other associations wanting 
to lend additional attraction to this splendid 

The human element, without which no 
story could be completely interesting, is here 
also present, and a memorable controversy, 
the smouldering embers of which still occa- 
sionally burst into flame, has arisen with 
respect to the discoverer of the remotest 
planet in our system* At the present time, 
when a lapse of just half a century has again 
stimulated a general interest in the subject, 
there seems to be a special propriety in 
attempting once more to draw attention to 
the series of never-to-be-forgotten investiga- 
tions which brought Neptune into light* 

To tell the story from the beginning, it is 
necessary to commence with the latter part 
of the last century, when those who loved to 
hear about the stars were astonished by the 
announcement of the first discovery of a 
planet which had ever been made since the 

VqL ail— 21* 

time when history commenced* The older 
planets, Jupiter, Saturn, Mercury, Venus, 
and Mars, had been known to observers of 
the heavens prior to the very earliest ages of 
which we have any record* No fresh addi- 
tions had been made to the slender list of 
five, until William Herschel, then organist at 
the Octagon Chapel at Bath, suddenly sprang 
into fame by the announcement that* with a 
home-made telescope, he had, on the night 
of the 13th of March, 1781, discovered the 
vast orb which presently received the name 
Of "Uranus," 

Herschel was led to this discovery by 
having imposed upon himself the task of 
examining all the stars he could find whose 
magnitude exceeded a certain limit. In the 
fulfilment of this scheme, he happened on 
the night in question to be reviewing the 
various stars in the constellation of Gemini, 
when his penetrating glance was attracted by 
an object which seemed different from the 
ordinary stars which are strewn in such 
thousands over the sky. Closer inspection 
revealed that this object was a planet. 
Hence came the announcement of the superb 
discovery of a mighty orb which revolved 
far outside the orbit of Saturn, An immense 
enlargement was thus given to the dimensions 
of the planetary system as they had been 
previously understood* 

When Herschel had directed attention to 
this new object Uranus, it was naturally 
submitted to careful observation by astro- 





Sit P-r 

- * 

H 48 I 1 jowB 


/*roin n Photo, by AWrn, (7a r?ii>rwlpe. 

nomers all over the world. They were 
anxious to learn all that they could with 
reference to the nature and the movements 
of this newly added member of our solar 
system. It was presently found that the planet 
required a period of about eighty-one years 
for the accomplishment of a complete revolu- 
tion around the sun. As the years passed 
by, observations were accumulated showing 
the several positions which the planet occupied 
in the different stages of its circuit, More 
and more accuracy was thus infused into our 
knowledge of the various circumstances of 
the motion of Uranus, 

At last astronomers were able to follow out 
with all needful precision the mighty highway 
which the great planet pursued, as it traced 
out what was then supposed to constitute the 
frontier of the solar system. It was found 
that, like the orbits of all the other great 
planets, the highway of Uranus was not 
exactly a circle ; it was* in fact, an oval, or, as 
we should say more accurately, an ellipse, and 
the details of the size and position of this 
ellipse were carefully studied, and became 
exactly known. 

As soon as the track of Uranus through 
the heavens had become determined, it was 
possible to find with some approximation the 
position which the planet occupied at any 
particular date, even though that date were 
antecedent to its discovery, In fact, a time- 
table was formed from which the locality of 
the planet, not only for each year, but even 
for each day, could be ascertained for any 
past epoch extending, if necessary, to 
centuries before Herschel lived. It happens, 
singularly enough, that a planet of the size 
of Uranus, and situated at its distance from 
the earth, bears a striking resemblance, 
though of a very superficial kind, to an 
ordinary star. Such a planet is, indeed, very 

by Google 

liable to be mis- 
taken for a star, 
and as the history 
of Uranus was 
studied, it came to 
the knowledge of 
astronomers that, 
though this object 
had never been 
recognised as a 
planet before the 
eagle glance of 
Herschd first de- 
tected it, yet that 
it had in a certain 
sense often come 
under the obser- 
vation of preceding observers, 

Nor is this fact to be wondered at, when 
we reflect that Uranus is bright enough to be 
visible with the most moderate telescopic 
power. Those earlier astronomers^ who in 
the course of reconnoitring the heavens 
happened to light on Uranus, not unnaturally 
took for granted that it was a fixed star ; it 
never occurred to them that it was anything 
essentially different from one of the thousands 
of similar looking objects lying all around. 
They never imagined that it called for any 
further recognition than was implied by 
noting its magnitude and the exact position 
which it occupied in the sky. These early 
observations in which the planet was mis- 
taken for a star, and had its places recorded 
in catalogues with thousands of undoubted 
stars, have since proved to be of signal 
service, in connection with the immortal 
discovery which we are presently to set forth. 
Little could any one of these ancient 
astronomers have suspected that, while his 
attention was fixed on a supposed star whose 
place he was so carefully measuring, he was 
just on the very brink of a discovery which 
would have rendered his name famous 
throughout the ages* The records which 
these astronomers have left possess, however, 
great importance for our present purpose* 
We are able by their aid to learn the 
track along which the planet was moving 
during the century which preceded its dis- 
covery. Thus the study of these early 
investigations permits us to learn the exact 
position occupied by Uranus years before 
attention had been directed to it by the 
achievements of Herschel. 

If a planet were permitted to pursue its 
movement without the interference of any 
external forces, so that it was guided solely 
by the supreme central attraction of the sun, 




then the orbit of the planet would be invari- 
able. Each revolution would be performed 
along the same ellipse precisely as that 
which was traversed during the preceding 
revolution. When the highway which 
Uranus was following at the time of its 
discovery, and for years subsequent thereto, 
was compared with the track which the same 
planet was pursuing in those earlier years 
before Herschel's time, when it w T as un- 
wittingly observed by preceding astronomers, 
it was found that the two tracks did not 
agree. No doubt the differences were but 
small between the actual positions in which 
Uranus was found by the 
early observers and the 
positions which calcula- 
tions based on the later 
observations w T ould have 
assigned to the planet. 
But they were quite large 
enough to be unmistakable 
when we remember how 
accurately the determina- 
tions of positions can be 
effected in our observa- 

Saturn, there 

movement of 



It was therefore clear 
that there must be some 
other influence upon the 
planet Uranus besides that 
which was due to the 
supreme controlling attrac- 
tion of the sun. Astro- 
nomers had been long 
accustomed to find that the 
movements of the planets 
varied from the move- 
ments which those planets 
would have had if the sun's attraction had 
been the sole guiding force. In all such 
cases it had been the custom to seek for an 
explanation of the observed discrepancies in 
the effects produced by the attraction of the 
other planets. It was known, for instance, 
that the movements of the earth were in this 
way affected by Jupiter, and that the move- 
ments of Mars were affected by the attraction 
of the earth. In fact, every one of the planets 
exercises a disturbing effect on the movements 
of each of the other planets, the amount 
of those disturbances depending primarily 
upon the mass of the disturbing planet } and 
also, of course, on the other circumstances 
of the movements of each of the bodies. 
The studies of mathematicians have so far 
perfected our methods of calculating the 
effects of these forces, that we are able to 
determine how much each planet is forced 

Digitized by G< 


to swerve from its track, in virtue of the pull 
exercised upon it by every other planet. 
Generally speaking, the disturbances which 
observation showed to take place in the 
movements of the heavenly bodies admitted 
of being completely accounted for as con- 
sequences of such attractions. Thus, for 
instance, in the case of two mighty neigh- 
bouring planets, Jupiter and 
was an irregularity in the 
Jupiter which was most 
explained to be a consequence of the attrac- 
tion of the planet Saturn, and a correspond- 
ing irregularity in the movement of Saturn 
was satisfactorily attributed 
to the disturbing effect of 

When it appeared that 
Uranus was performing 
movements which indi- 
A cated that the planet was 

_^i A affected by certain pertur- 

bations, attempts were 
naturally made to account 
for those perturbations by 
showing that they were 
the consequences of the 
attractive power of the 
other bodies in the solar 
system. The effects which 
Jupiter could produce 
upon Uranus admitted of 
being estimated, and so 
also the disturbing influ- 
ence of Saturn, as well as 
of the oth&r planets, could 
be certainly ascertained. 
After due allowance had 
been made for all known 
sources of disturbance it was, however, found 
that there were still certain discrepancies out- 
standing between the places actually occupied 
by the planet discovered by Herschel and the 
places in which calculation seemed to locate 
it The belief in the universal validity of the 
laws of gravitation is so well founded that it 
suggested the possibility that the perturba- 
tions of Uranus, which could not be other- 
wise accounted for, must be due to the 
attraction of some other planet which was 
quite unknown to astronomers. This gave 
rise to one of the grandest intellectual 
problems which the mind of man has ever 
undertaken to solve. 

Let it be observed that the facts with 
which astronomers had to deal in their quest 
for the unknown planet were simply these : 
The position in which Uranus was actually 
found differed from the positions which that 




planet would have held had there been no 
other agents acting upon it except those 
which are already known. Accordingly! two 
accomplished mathematicians, 1m Verrier 
in France, and Adams in England, undertook 
to investigate the whereabouts of a con- 
ceivable planet which should be capable of 
producing precisely those disturbances in the 
motion of Uranus which had actually been 
observed. It need hardly be said that the 
solution of this question involved refinements 
of mathematical research which could not be 
here reproduced. We may, however, indicate 
an outline of the methods which had to be 
pursued in this extraordinary investigation* 


First, some well-considered guess or assump- 
tion had to be hazarded as to the distance 
from the sun at which the supposititious 
planet might be likely to revolve. Its orbit 
should certainly be presumed to lie outside 
that of Uranus, and from a certain curious law 
which governed with some regularity the dis- 
tances of the other planets from the sun, it 
was possible to anticipate what the distance 
from the sun of an additional planet revolving 
outside Uranus might be reasonably expected 
to amount to- The weight of the hypotheti- 
cal planet could also in the first instance be 
only estimated rather vaguely, but the 
assumptions being made, it became possible 
to calculate the effects which such a body, if 
it really existed, would produce upon Uranus. 
It could hardly be expected that a first 
attempt of this kind would provide a satis- 

factory explanation of the irregularities in the 
motions of Herschers planet, but by making 
successive trials, in which the unknown planet 
was placed at different distances from the 
sun, and assumed to have different magni- 
tudes, light gradually dawned on the subject. 
Both of the illustrious astronomers, Le 
Verrier and Adams, each pursuing his 
researches independently of the other, came 
at last to the conclusion that it was quite 
possible to determine the whereabouts of the 
unknown planet from the study of its action 
reflected, so to speak, in the movements of 
Uranus. Indeed, it is a most remarkable 
circumstance that the two investigators should 
have concurred, not only in 
determining the track of the 
unknown planet, but even in 
ascertaining the very spot in 
the heavens which the un- 
known object occupied. When 
Adams and Le Verrier found 
that this hypothetical body 
did exercise precisely that 
kind and degree of attractive 
power upon Uranus which 
would provide the necessary 
explanation of its perturba- 
tions, their confidence that the 
hypothetical body must have 
a veritable existence rose to 
absolute certainty. 
Le Verrier 's cal- 
culations having 
been completed, 
he not only ascer- 
tained the track in 
which the un- 


ROPEKTS, ESQ*, F.R.A,S. K R O W n planet 

moved, and the 
mass of that body, but he was able to learn 
its movement through the heavens so as to 
know the place among the stars which it 
occupied day after day. At last he felt so 
confident that this planet could now be 
detected by the telescope, that on the 18th 
of September, 1S46, a day from henceforward 
to be memorable in the annals of astronomy, 
Le Verrier wrote to Dr. Galle, astronomer at 
the Berlin Observatory, requesting him to 
direct his telescope on a particular spot of 
the sky which was carefully indicated, "and 
there/' said Le Verrier, in effect, "you will 
see a planet which I have not seen, and 
which no human eye has ever seen, but 
which nevertheless must lie in that spot, 
because calculations have pointed out the 
necessity for its existence." It may sound 
almost like a romance w T hen we are told 



i6 S 

that this astonishing prediction was literally 

On the very evening of the day on which 
Le Vender's letter was received at Berlin, 
Dr. Galle was able to comply with the request 
made of him. He was fortunately in 
possession of an accurate chart of the stars in 
that part of the heavens in which the spot 
indicated by Le Verrier was situated. This 
circumstance greatly facilitated his search. 
He compared the several bright points which 
his telescope showed him in the heavens 
with the stars 
which had been 
marked down on 
the chart. Most 
of the stars in 
the sky could be 
readily identified 
with the corre- 
sponding stars 
on the chart. 
There was, how- 
ever, one starlike 
object in the 
field of the tele- 
scope which was 
not represented 
by any point on 
the chart. The 
attention of the 
practical astro 
nomer was 
instantly concen- 
trated on this 
object. It was 
perfectly clear 
that the orb he 
was now looking 
at could not have 
been visible to 
the painstaking 
astronomer who 
had some years 
bef o re been 
studying that 
part of the sky, 
and taking note of all the stars it contained 
with view to the preparation of the chart. 
There seemed to be only two possible 
suppositions to account for the discrepancy 
between the chart and the sky. One would 
be that the object in question was a star 
which had sprung into visibility at some 
period subsequent to the observations 
made for the preparation of the map. 
The other supposition would be that the 
suspicious object was a veritable planet, 

i.e vm 
frvm tht Fainting by (Jiticvmotti, 

that is to say, a wanderer over the heavens 
which had been in some other part of the 
sky at the time when the chart was being 
made, but which had since moved into 
the position where it was now met with 
in September, 1846. Closer examination 
showed that the latter was the true interpre- 
tation of the new object It was found to be 
in motion ; it was, therefore, Indeed a planet. 
Subsequent investigations with high magni- 
fying powers on the telescope disclosed that 
this new member of the solar system 

possessed a 
characteristic by 
which a planet 
can often be dis- 
tinguished from a 
star. No amount 
of magnifying 
power will ever 
exhibit a single 
star otherwise 
than as a brilliant 
point of light. 
Such an object 
never presents 
the appearance 
of a disc with 
perceptible area 
and a circular or 
oval outline. On 
the other hand, 
a planet may 
frequently be 
observed to 
show a distinctly 
marked disc* 
This test was 
here applied, 
and the new 
object was pre- 
sently shown to 
possess the pla- 
netary figure, 
and thus its true 
character was 
illustrated in 
another way. 
The scientific world stood amazed at this 
astonishing discovery. In any case, to have 
added yet another magnificent planet to the 
sun's retinue would have been a notable 
achievement. But the circumstances under 
which this planet was brought to light made 
the incident mark an epoch in the history of 
the human intellect. Here was a superb 
planet, eighty times larger than the earth, 
discovered, not by a mere accidental survey, 
but in consequence of refined mathematical 








From a Photo, by SaAl *t H'iU ituou, ftrudrrvipe, 

anticipations, which illustrated in the most 
emphatic manner the truth of the law of 
universal gravitation. The name of Le 
Verrier was immediately elevated to a pinnacle 
of renown transcending that which 
had been attained by any mathe- 
matical astronomer since the days 
of Newton* 

It presently appeared, however, 
that the fame of the discovery of 
Neptune was not to be solely the 
property of Le Verrier, but that it 
would have to be shared with a 
young English mathematician. 

Mr. J. C. Adams, who had recently 
taken an exceptionally brilliant de- 
gree at Cambridge, had also, as we 
have said, discovered the planet by 
calculation ere it had ever been 
telescopically seen. Adams had 
also, like Le Verrier, provided in- 
structions for the practical astro- 
nomer by which the telescopic 
search for the planet might be 

Professor Challis, of Cambridge, 
commenced to search for the planet 
in accordance with the calculations 
of Adams, but he was, unfortunately, 
not provided with that special appfi- 
ance for facilitating such a research 
which was available to Dr. Galle at 
Berlin, The Cambridge observer 
had not yet received a copy of 
that star-chart without which the 

task of discriminating the planet from among 
the hundreds of adjacent stars involved 
an arduous and tedious piece of work* 
Professor Challis did, however, manfully 
commence the laborious duty of instituting 
a careful survey of the region. We now 
know that in the course of his work he had, 
on more than one occasion, unwittingly 
observed the planet Neptune, so that there 
cannot be the least doubt that the process 
which he was pursuing must necessarily in 
due time have resulted in complete success. 
But while Challis was engaged in this 
laborious work, news reached Cambridge of 
the discovery of the planet which had already 
been effected at Berlin. A considerable 
controversy thereupon ensued. The French 
nation claimed for Le Verrier the credit 
of the discovery of Neptune, and were at 
first inclined to deny to Adams any share 
whatever in the immortal achievement They 
urged that Le Verrier, quite unconscious of 
the labours of Adams, had completely 
worked out the position of the planet, and 
in consequence of that work, and solely in 
consequence of it, the planet had been tele- 
scopically discovered at Berlin, Those who 
put forward the claims of the English mathe- 

by {j 










from a Phots, bv &U'urn t Cambridge. 

matician urged the undoubted fact that the 
calculations of Adams were really prior to 
those of Le Verrier, though it was admitted 
that the optical discovery by Dr. Galle antici- 
pated the discovery, which certainly would 
have been made by Challis when he had 
completed and compared his observation at 
Carn bridge, The English claim demanded 
that the fame of the discovery of Neptune 
by mathematical research should be equally 
shared between Le Verrier and Adams, 

Gradually this claim has come to be 
almost universally recognised as a just one, 
It is true that certain French writers occa- 
sionally speak of the discovery of Neptune 
as simply due to Le Verrier, but impartial 
judges generally refer to it as the joint result 
of the concurrent labours of the French and 
the English astronomers. 

There can be no 
doubt that, even if 
Le Verrier or Adams 
had never lived, 
Neptune would in 
the course of the 
last fifty years have 
been discovered in 
some other way. We 
frequently read in 
the papers announce- 
ments of the detec- 
tion of an additional 
planetary member of 
our system, but no 
one attaches to such 
achievements more 
than a very small 
fraction of the signi- 
ficance that must 
ever be attached to 
the discovery of Nep- 
tune, These small 
planets are usually 
discovered by dili- 
gent comparison of 
the stars in the sky 
with the stars on the 
chart, and whenever 
a new object is thus 
brought under 
notice, it is carefully 
looked after. There 
can be no doubt that 
Neptune would, in 
the course of time, 
have been found by 
this simple survey 
work, and though 
its detection would 
reward to the diligent 
so fortunate as to have 

have been a great 
astronomer who was 
first dropped upon it, yet it would have been 
a matter of much regret had Neptune been 
thus picked up, instead of having been the 
object of that wonderful mathematical 
triumph by which indications were given of 
the exact spot in which the search was to be 

Indeed, as a matter of fact, Neptune had 
once been very nearly discovered in what 
may be described as an accidental manner 
before either Adams or Le Verrier were born. 
Astronomer Lalande records in his great 

by Google 

celestial catalogue a 
certain place on the 
Subsequent inquiries 
showed that this object was not 
Lalande thought, but that it 
Original from 


certain u star !l in a 

10th of May, 1 795. 

instituted by Adams 

a star as 

was really the 





planet Neptune* A reference to the original 
manuscript observations of Lalande brought 
to light circumstances of much interest. It 
appears that the astronomer had observed 
this object on May Sth t as well as on the 
date two days later, but as his observations 
showed a different position on the 10th from 
that which he had set down on the 8th, 
Lalande concluded that the latter was 
erroneous. We now know that the dis- 
crepancy in the two positions was simply 

due to the movement of the planet in 
the interval. Little did Lalande dream 
that a superb discovery had Iain so nearly 
in his grasp* but we cannot regret that 
he did not make it. Had he done so, it 
would have been what we may relatively 
describe as a mere accidental achieve- 
ment. We should have been deprived of 
the most glorious illustration science has 
yet given of the principles of theoretical 

by Google 

Original from 

The Adventures of a Man of Science. 

By L. T. Meade and Clifford Halifax, M.D. 

We have taken down these stories from time to time as our friend, Paul Gilchrist, has related them to us. He is a man 
wbose life study has been science in its most interesting forms — he is also a keen observer of human nature and a noted traveller. 
He has an unbounded sympathy for his kind, and it has been his lot to be consulted on many occasions by all sorts and conditions 
of men. 


Y small laboratory in Blooms- 
bury has been the source of 
more than one interesting ex- 
periment. I have worked the 
X rays, and have caught some 
glimpses of the infinite possi- 
bilities of the new discovery, but no subjects 
interest me so much as those which relate to 
biology, and of late my whole attention has 
been turned to the new future which the 
treatment of disease by animal extract 

The subject in its full intensity is naturally 
more in the line of the ordinary medical man 
than myself, but if I am not a biologist in 
the full sense of the word, I am nothing, and 
it has often seemed to me that the scientific 
man of leisure has more opportunity for 
making experiments and working up valu- 
able discoveries, than his brother who is in 
the thick of the battle-field itself. The 
following story, which bears fully on the 
subject of this new discovery, absorbed my 
keenest attention at the time, and I cannot 
forbear from giving it here : — 

On a certain evening in the month of May, 
my friend Dr. Everzard and I were seated 
together in his private study. We had been 
engaged in an interesting discussion, and I 
had been telling him of experiments which I 
had been fortunate enough to complete. 

" Yes," he said, with eagerness, " I fully 
believe that there is a great future before this 
theory of treating disease by animal extract, 
and I shall be greatly surprised if it does 
not prove of marked use in the case of the 

44 That is the very point I am coming to," 
I answered. " With all our knowledge we 
must confess that at the present moment we 
know little or nothing of the marvellous 
structure of the human brain. Until we are 
better acquainted with its functions, you 
doctors will be in the dark as far as the real 
treatment of insanity is concerned." 

" I am by no means sure that light is not 
coming," answered Dr. Everzard. " Brain 
disease is often due, I feel sure, to functional 
disturbance and consequent mal-nutrition of 

Vol. xii.— 22. Copyright, 1896, 

certain centres. We see this plainly in cases 
of epilepsy, hysteria, etc. If we can, there- 
fore, ascertain where the brain is at fault, 
there is a rational deduction and line of 
treatment pointed out" 

I thought over these words for a moment ; 
meanwhile, Everzard gave a quick glance at 
his watch. 

44 How the time has flown," he said, " we 
have neither of us another moment to waste. 
Pray, Gilchrist, hurry up to your room and 
get into your evening dress. If we don't 
both hasten we shall not be in the ballroom 
when the strains of the first waltz strike up. 
I cannot afford to be absent You know 
your way to your room, don't you ? " 

I said I did, and hurried off to dress as 
fast as I could. This was the night when the 
great annual ball was held at Fairleigh 
Manor, and when the county were invited 
to attend the function. 

Fairleigh Manor is one of the most beautiful 
places in the south-west of England. It 
possesses something like ninety acres of 
pleasure grounds, and the house itself is old 
and full of historical interest. On ordinary 
occasions, however, the high walls which 
surround the pleasure grounds, the wrought- 
iron gates, and the general air of seclusion, 
cast a certain gloom over the lovely place. 

Dr. Everzard is much respected in the 
neighbourhood, but it is well known that he 
has a queer strain about him. Fairleigh 
Manor belongs to him, he is known to be a 
very wealthy man — he has refused to marry, 
and has turned his own place into nothing 
more or less than a large lunatic asylum. 
There are all sorts of theories to account for 
this, the favourite one being that there is 
really concealed insanity in Everzard's own 
family. To the outward eye, however, 
the gloom of the place does not affect its 
owner — he is a bright, keen-looking man of 
about forty years of age. Not only does he 
attend to his patients, but he is on the local 
board of magistrates, and attends church at 
least once every Sunday. There is nothing 
of importance which goes on in the district 
that he does not take part in, his activity 


I 7° 


being something wonderful. To look at him 
one can see that he is all on wires. His 
patients adore him, and he has the satisfac- 
tion of performing many permanent cures, 
The life at the Manor is all that is luxurious, 
the terms are reasonable, and the restraint 
as slight as possible. Moral suasion is 
brought to bear whenever moral suasion can 
effect its object; and Everzard, I know for a 
fact, often spends the short hours in earnest 
endeavours to lift the veil which separates 
the sane man from his insane brother. 

He is a special friend of mine, and I am 
fond of running down to the Manor whenever 
I can spare the time to spend a couple of 
nights there. 

On this occasion I was in time for the 
annual ball. Once a year the beautiful place 
is really thrown open — the dangerous patients 
disappear, no one cares to inquire where or 
how ; but all those patients who are suffi- 
ciently well can once more sun themselves in 
the public gaze. Not only the splendid 
house itself, but the stately grounds, are got 
ready for the reception of guests. 

On this particular night, having dressed, I 
ran downstairs. I lifted a curtain, and 
found myself in the great ball-room. Just 
within the entrance my eyes lighted on my 
friend Everzard and a particularly graceful, 
fair haired woman of about thirty-five years 
of age. They were talking earnestly together, 


and I noticed that Everzard J s eyes lightened, 
and his face seemed to contract with some 
displeasure as he conversed. The moment 
he saw me a look of relief passed over his 
features, and he came a step or two forward 
to meet me. 

"Gilchrist," he said, u allow me to in- 
troduce you to Mrs, Joliffe, Mrs. Joliffe, 
this is my old friend, Paul Gilchrist ,? 

M I am very glad to make your acquaint- 
ance, Mr. Gilchrist," answered Mrs. Joliffe* 
She raised two sky-blue eyes to my face ; a 
colour of the faintest rose mantled her cheeks 
for a moment, then left them with a lovely 
creamy pallor. 

We stepped out through an open window, 
and Mrs. Joliffe leant against a pillar round 
which a lovely " Gloire de Dijon" climbed. 
It was just coming into flower, and she pulled 
one of the half-open buds and began to 
pick it absently to pieces. 

"What are you doing in your world now ? " 
she said. 

11 In my world?" I answered, startled by 
her tone, and at the flashing light which 
came and went in her peculiarly blue eyes. 

She laughed — her laughter was as sweet as 
a silver bell, 

"Ah/' she said, " did I not see you talking 

to Dr. Everzard ? You know my story, or at 

least some of it. You know that I am one 

of the unfortunate victims who live in this 

outward paradise — in 

reality, in this gilded 


"I am truly sorry for 
you," I said, 

"Pray don't be that," 
she interrupted, l * I am 
leaving here next week. 
Thanks to our good 
doctor's care I no longer 
belong to the insane 
members of the public. 
Now you understand why 
I asked my question. I 
do not wish to appear 
ignorant when I leave 
Fairleigh Manor. Please 
tell me what they are 
doing now in your 

She laid her small hand 

on my arm* 

Let us walk up and 

down," she said, "it is 

quite sheltered on this 

terrace. Now, please, tell 






"What about?" I asked. 

"Oh, anything— not Parliamentary news, 
of course, but society gossip, little scandals, 
the ' bon mots ' of polite life. What is the 
subject which interests most now in the 
London drawing-room, for instance?" 

I began to relate one or two of the topics 
of the day. 

She gazed at me while I was speaking with 
large, interested, wondering eyes. 

lt How nice," she said, " how I shall enjoy 
it all again ! Of course no place, for a 
lunaik^ could go beyond this, but when one 
is cured one can really enjoy life to the full 
By the way, Mr. Gilchrist, you hold a some- 
what unique position in London society, do 
you not ? " 

" Not that I know of, 5 ' I answered, with a 

"Let me see," she continued, holding up 
one of her pretty little hands, and 
beginning to count on her fingers ; 
"you work hard, and yet you have so 
much money that you find it unnecessary 
to earn your own living." 

u There is nothing very uncommon 
in that," I replied, 

" Don't interrupt me, 
You are a noted traveller 
— you are partly of foreign 
extraction — your mother 
was not an Englishwoman, 
in consequence you have 
the foreigner's gift for lan- 
guages; you know several." 

" Nevertheless, in these 
days, such a fact does not 
put me out of the common 
run/' I replied- 

t( Don't interrupt me, please ; I have 
something further to say. You know 
the secrets of our prison-house, and yet 
you do not belong to us." 

" What do you mean ? " 

" I mean this : you have lifted the 
curtain which shows the hideous reality 
of disease, mental or physical, and yet in 
the ordinary sense of the word, you are not 
a doctor," 

" Heaven forbid," I replied, 

w Why do you say that? Why should you 
not help your fellow creatures ? " 

( * It is my delight to help them when in 
my power," I said. 

" Is that indeed so ? " She looked at me 
with quite a glitter in her eyes, M Perhaps 
some day," she added, after a pause, " we 
may meet again, and it may be in your 
province to render me assistan< 

11 H it is, be sure that I will do my utmost 
for you/' I answered. 

I had scarcely said the words before a 
neighbouring squire came up to take Mrs, 
Joliffe in to dance, and I had no opportunity 
of talking to her again that evening. 

Early the next morning I left the Manor, 
but on my way up to town, the recollection 
of her somewhat strange face kept flashing 
again and again before my memory. 

When I returned to town I found a letter 
awaiting me from my friend, Lucian Maxwell. 
He and I had spent a whole year travelling 
together in the Himalayas^ and there were 
few men whom I knew better. I opened 
his letter now with eagerness, its contents 
were calculated to surprise me. 

" When you read this, my dear Gilchrist, 
you will doubtless be astonished," he wrote, 
"I am about to enter immediately into the 



holy state of matrimony, I, who vowed 
against the whole thing for so long, am at 
last caught in the toils. My only excuse is 
that Laura is unlike any other girl I ever 
met, Fairer, braver, and, I believe, more 
noble. I really flatter myself that these are 
not altogether lovers' raptures. Gilchrist, you 
must see her for yourself. I write now to 
claim the performance of an offer you 
once made to act in the capacity of my best 
man should I ever break my vow. We 
are to be married in exactly three weeks, and 
as Laura has i;ic iiettltd home, the wedding 





will take place from my place in Derbyshire. 
Pray write at once to say that you will be at 
my service on the 25th of June," 

I threw down the letter, went to my diary, 
looked up the date, marked it with a red 
cross, and then wrote to my friend telling 
him that I would certainly be present at the 
wedding, and would be only too glad to 
make the acquaintance of his future bride. 

Maxwell was as fine a fellow as I have 
often met, but he was 
not without a curious 
crank in his disposi- 
tion. He was good- 
looking, well-off, with 
a family history above 
reproach, but he had 
some curious views on 
many subjects, 
and in particular 
with regard to 
women. From 
his earliest days 
he had been 
fond of making 
mental sketches 
of his future 
wife. This im- 
possible crea- 
tion, as I used 
to consider her, 
must possess in 
all things the 
happy mean, 
being neither 
too young nor 
too old, too 
clever nor too 
silly. She must 
be feminine 
without being 
prudish. She 
must be brave 
without possess- 
ing any of the 
attributes of the 
New Woman. 
In short, as I 
often said to 

Maxwell, his future wife must come straight 
down from Heaven, for in no other way 
could he obtain the perfect woman whom he 
hoped some day might own his name and be 
the mother of his children. Now, it appeared 
that he had discovered this pearl of great 
price, and that her feet really trod the earth, 

"No doubt the girl is as commonplace as 
possible,' 1 I said to myself. " Maxwell has 
fallen in love, and he sees her through false 


glasses. Well, I shall soon know for myself." 
I wrote the usual congratulatory letter, and 
prepared to go to Combe Ashley the last 
week in June, 

On the afternoon of the 23rd, I started for 
my friend's place ; I arrived in good time, 
but to my surprise no one met me at the little 
wayside station, which was distant about two 
miles from the house. As the afternoon was 
a particularly fine one I desired my luggage 
to be sent after me and walked 
across the fields to Combe 
Ashley, My way led me through 
a pine- wood, which was just 
then in the perfection of its 
summer foliage. Thankful for 
the shade, 1 sat down for a 
moment under a tree, and 
taking out my sketch-book, was 
preparing to make a sketch 
when 1 was startled by the 
sound of a woman's cough. I 
raised my eyes, and then started 
quickly to my feet ? for the 
bright and glittering blue orbs 
of Mrs. Joliffe were eagerly 
fixed on my face. 

"Ah," she said, com- 
ing forward and giving 
a slight theatrical laugh, 
" I thought it quite likely 
that you would take this 
short cut. That is well ; 
I shall be able 
to have a little 
conversat i o n 
with you before 
we join the rest 
of the visitors." 
"How do 
you do?" I 
said, " I am sur- 
prised to see 
you here." 

u Are you ? " 

she replied : 

" well, I can 

account for my 

presence very 

easily. Rut before I say another word it is 

my turn to ask you a question." 

"What is that?" 

She came close to me, and looked up into 
my eyes with a peculiar gaze. 

" Do you remember where you saw me 
last ? " 

" Perfectly well." 

tl 1 want you to keep that fact a secret." 

" I shall certainly have no object in betray- 





ing it," I answered, speaking abruptly, and 
with some annoyance, for her manner 
irritated me, I did not know why. 

" That is good. You have promised, 
remember, to respect that most important 
secret. I am here as a guest, and not a soul 
in the house, with the exception of yourself, 
knows my previous history. I do not choose 
that anyone shall know. When I heard you 
were coming here I will confess that I got a 
considerable start; then it occurred to me 
that I might manage to meet you before you 
met any of the other guests, or, in particular, 
before you had any communication with our 
charming host, Lucian Maxwell. I have 
managed this, and you have promised to 
respect my secret, so all is well. Now, will 
you sit down and let me sit near you, I have 
a good deal to say." 

I motioned her to avail herself of a mossy 
bank which sloped away from one of the 
pine trees. She sat down without a word, 
and I placed myself at a little distance. 

" Now," she began, eagerly, " I must say 
what I have come to say in as few words as 
possible. You wonder that I am here — I 
will tell you. What more natural than that 
a mother should be in the house with her 
child, just before that child's wedding ? " 

44 What can you mean ? " I asked, surprise 
and fear on my face. 

"Exactly what I say. I have got a 
daughter, a beautiful daughter — her name is 
Laura, she is to marry Lucian Maxwell the 
day after to-morrow." 

" Your daughter is to marry Lucian 
Maxwell," I repeated. 

44 Yes, pray don't look so stunned ; when 
you see her you will quite forgive your 
friend's indiscretion." 

" It is not that," I replied. I turned my 
face away. Like a flash a memory rose 
before my mental vision. If there was a 
subject on which Maxwell, in my opinion, 
was a little over-particular, it was on the 
dreaded topic of heredity. Over and over 
again had he been fond of assuring me 
that far rather would he allow his ancient 
house to die out of existence than bring 
serious disease into his family. When I last 
saw Mrs. Joliffe she had been confined in a 
lunatic asylum. She had met me now in 
order to wring a promise from me that I 
would not acquaint Lucian Maxwell with 
this fact. I had given her the promise with- 
out knowing what it involved. Ought I to 
keep it ? 

My eyes met her's. 

" You think I have trapped you ? " she 

said. " Well, I meant to do so. Now, 
remember, I hold you to your word ; you are 
not to betray what you know about me. 
Lucian Maxwell is a special friend of yours. 
He told me last night with what pleasure he 
looked forward to your visit. He spoke of 
the old friendship which existed between 
you, and said that his crowning bliss would 
not be there unless you accompanied him to 
the altar. Those were strong words, and 
they meant a great deal. Lucian, in my 
opinion, is one of the best of men ; he is the 
very husband of all others I desire for Laura. 
She is to marry him on the 25th — you quite 
understand ? " 

I did not speak. 

" If he knew all that you know about me 
that wedding would never take place." 

44 Mrs. Joliffe," I said, suddenly, 44 is it right 
to keep Maxwell in the dark ? " 

She laughed. Then the colour flooded 
her thin, excited face. 

44 From my point of view it is perfectly 
right," she said. 44 Now I mean to take you 
into my confidence. You met me a month 
ago at a ball at Dr. Everzard's house — beyond 
that one fact you know nothing whatever 
about me." 

44 That is perfectly true," I replied. 44 Ever- 
zard, of course, mentioned to me that you 
were one of his patients." 

44 Yes — I wish he had not done so— that, 
alas, signifies a great deal. Now listen to 
me attentively. When I heard last evening 
that you were expected here, not only as a 
guest, but as the special, indeed the chief, 
friend of the bridegroom, I experienced a 
sensation of agony, which you, with your 
cool, well-balanced life, can little understand. 
The object of many long years, the hope so 
soon to be realized, the reward for self-denial 
the most intense, of horrors all cheerfully 
borne because one result was to be the con- 
sequence, seemed about to be shattered by a 
single blow. Then I remembered your face, 
which appeared to me to be strong as well as 
kind. I also recalled a remark made by you 
to me, that whenever it was in your power it 
was your pleasure to help your fellow-crea- 
tures. Mr. Gilchrist, it is now in your power 
to render me assistance. The opportunity 
which you wished for has arrived. You see 
before you a very miserable and a most 
anxious woman. I claim your sympathy and 
I demand your help." 

44 Pray be assured that there is nothing I 
would not do for you,"T replied, 44 but the 
promise vou have just wrung from me, Mrs. 

J «EfflfohftKS my friend - If 



ever there was a man fastidious, over-sensi- 
tive on the subject of family history, Maxwell 
is that person. Is it right to him, is it right to 
your daughter, to allow them to marry without 
his knowing the girl's true family history ? " 

" I repeat, that from my point of view it is 
perfectly right Laura is to marry Lucian 
Maxwell the day after to-morrow. By a mere 
accident you have got hold of my secret I 
insist on your keeping your promise. I 
expect you to respect it as a man of honour. 
I have one child. She represents my all of 
hope, of love — she is my only treasure. She 
knows nothing whatever of the unhappy doom 
which hangs over me. She is beautiful, 
lovable, worthy of the best that life can offer 
her. I say once for all, that I will not have 
her happiness tampered with. She is much 
attached to Lucian, who thinks her perfect — 
he shall marry her knowing nothing whatever 
of my unhappy history. I demand your 

"This places me in a most unhappy 
dilemma," I said. 

" I am sorry for you ; but what is your 
dilemma to mine ? Now, I want to take you 
further into my confidence. You met me at 
Fairleigh Manor ? " 

44 Yes, and Everzard gave me to under- 
stand that at times you suffer from want of 
control over your emotions. Perhaps, after 
all," I added, eagerly, " your mania may be 
of a very slight character." 

" If so, would my liberty have been taken 
from me ? No, do not flatter yourself that it 
is anything of the sort. At a moment like 
the present there is no use in mincing 
matters. You shall know the simple truth. 
The form my mania takes is the following : 
I am pursued by the most horrible, ghastly 
fear that I am being poisoned. Each kindly 
word, each gentle glance, each sympathizing 
expression, seems to me at such times like 
the cunning of my deadliest foe. My mania 
rises to hatred, and unless something is done 
to arrest its progress, I should think very 
little of trying myself to take the life of the 
person whom I imagine is conspiring against 
me. But I cannot speak of it further. Only 
an insane person can know what I endure. 
Even at the present moment, even as I speak 
to you, I feel the sure approach of the terrible 
cloud which shuts away the sunshine of my 
life. I am convinced, however, that I shall 
be able to control myself until Thursday 
morning, when I return immediately to Fair- 
leigh Manor." 

44 And your daughter is quite unaware of 
all this?" I said. 

Digitized by L^OOglC 

"Yes. I have managed well, she knows 
nothing. My husband died soon after her 
birth, and when my darling was five years 
old she was taken from me and sent to 
school. We used to meet occasionally in 
the holidays, and we always corresponded 
with regularity. When with her 1 have 
hitherto had power to restrain myself. She 
suspects nothing. Your terrible theory of 
heredity cannot be correct, for I am convinced 
my only child will escape my awful fate. I 
have done all that I could by placing her in 
the healthiest environments to insure that. 
But if she is the victim of a cruel blow I 
cannot answer for the consequence. She is 
fragile, physically delicate — were you to tell 
what you know of me to Mr. Maxwell you 
would, in all probability, render my daughter 
insane for life." 

I rose to my feet. 

" You place me in a terrible position," I 
replied, " but there is no help for it, I will 
respect your scruples. I only pray Heaven 
that I am not committing a sin in doing so." 

" Be assured that you are acting nobly, Mr. 

Mrs. Joliffe also stood up, she came forward 
and took one of my hands in hers. 

" Heaven bless you," she said. " You 
have lifted a weight from my mind. My 
Laura will now be happily married on the 
25th, on which day I return to the Manor. 
Until then not a soul will know, except your- 
self, of my secret." 

44 How have you managed to keep Miss 
Joliffe in ignorance all this time ? " I asked. 

Mrs. Joliffe laughed. 

44 Ah, I have been clever," she said. " My 
girl is under the impression that I have spent 
all these long years travelling abroad. I 
have one or two friends on the Continent 
who have posted my letters to her. You 
will see for yourself how unnatural, how 
more than unnatural, it would have been 
had I not been present at her wedding. 
Afterwards I shall see little or nothing of 
her; but my mind will be at ease, she at 
least will be insured a happy life." 

As she said these last words she looked 
down the pretty vista through the wood. 
Some people were coming up a narrow 

" Lucian and some of his friends ! " she 
exclaimed. " Remember, Mr. Gilchrist, I 
trust you and — and thank you." 

She gave me a glance full of gratitude as 
well as warning, and then, with a light laugh, 
ran down the path to meet her friends. 

44 1 have been the? very first to meet Mr. 




14 lltRE 1 AM, OLD FALLOW 

Gilchrist," she said, going straight up to 
Maxwell's side. 

11 Gilchrist ! " exclaimed Maxwell. t( Has 
he come ? " 

** Here I am, old fellow ! " I answered, 
coming forward. 

"Hut I did not expect you until a later 
train. Did vou walk from the station ? " 

u Yes, and my luggage is following me." 

The colour flooded his thin face — he linked 
his hand through my arm, and without wait- 
ing to apologize to the friends who had 
accompanied him into the wood, walked 
away rapidly with me by his side, 

M I cannot say how acceptable your 
presence is," he said, " I have much to tell 
you, but first of all I want to introduce 
you to Laura- We will come straight away 
to her now/' 

" You look well, 11 I said, by way of reply. 

u I never felt better in my life," he 
answered. " I often told you, did I not, 
Gilchrist, that mv bride could not exist out of 
Paradise? But there, I have found her at 
last Of the earth earthy, thank Providence, 
but so ethereal, so unworldly, that I think a 
breath would waft her into Heaven. Come, 
I see you are smiling, but I assure you these 
are not mere lovers' raptures. You shall see 
Laura yourself," 

As he spoke, he strode forward with eager 
steps. The next moment we found ourselves 

in a long, low, 
cool conservatory, 
protected from the 
sun by heavy 
blinds, which shut 
out the greater 
part of the heat of 
the June day. A 
very slender young 
girl was standing 
under an open 
window. She was 
twirling a rose in 
her fingers. When 
she saw Maxwell 
the rose tumbled 
to the floor, and 
she advanced 
slowly to meet 

u Here I am, 
I .aura," he cried, 
"and whom do 
you think I have 
brought with me ? 
No less a person 
lhan my best man, 
and," he added, giving me an affectionate 
glance, " my greatest friend, Paul Gilchrist." 

"I have heard of you, of course, and I am 
glad to meet you," she answered — she raised 
shy blue eyes to my face. She was, I saw at 
a glance, her mother in miniature, but her 
mother with a sort of halo cast over her. The 
same blue eyes were there with their intense— 
almost china — colour, but in the girl's case 
they were shaded and softened by thick long 
lashes of a perfect black. The delicate arched 
brows, too, were slightly darker. The hair was 
bright with the brightness of youth, being of 
a red-gold, crisp, radiant, full of little tendrils 
and half-attempts at curls — it softened her 
white forehead and massed itself in graceful 
confusion round her pretty head. Her com- 
plexion was as pink and white as a hit of 
Dresden china, but extremely delicate, the 
colour coming and going in her checks at the 
least emotion. Under her wonderful brilliant 
eyes, too, there were somewhat dark shadows, 
which seemed to throw up and intensify 
their expression, adding to the etherealness 
and fragility of the face. Angelic was the 
best word by which to describe this very fair 
girl, and when I gazed at her I did not wonder 
at Maxwell's infatuation* 

She began to speak to me in a low, sweet 
voice, and I had not been ten minutes in her 
society before I discovered something else — 

1 "fflfeftflttw iter in *' hM " 

*7 6 


of the mother — the passion, the despair which 
would even commit a crime if necessary to 
protect so treasured and beautiful a creature 
from the rough storms of the world 

"The boat is waiting, Laura; are you 
inclined for our promised row ? J ' said her 

She glanced from Maxwell to me. 

"If Mr. Gilchrist will come with us," she 

The compliment was so pretty that I could 
not but accept We strolled down together 
to the lake, and spent an hour or more 
floating about on its glassy surface. 

There was to be a ball that night, and 
Laura was full of the pleasures of the coming 
dance. Maxwell lay back in the bow of the 

brilliant one. Many guests from neighbour- 
ing houses had arrived, and the grounds 
were lighted with Chinese lanterns and many 
other forms of decoration. Soon after ten 
o'clock I was standing on the south terrace, 
when I was startled by a light hand being 
laid on my arm. 1 looked round and saw 
the pretty young bride-elect standing at my 
side. She was all in white, and looked more 
ethereal and lovely than ever. 

" Can I speak to you ? " she asked. 

Her voice was very low, and almost 
unnatural in its tone. Even by the artificial 
light I could see that she was pale, her lips 
were trembling, 

11 Certainly^" I replied. u Where shall we 
go ? " 


boat contented to watch her as she talked. 
She had a somewhat slow utterance, each 
word coming out with a sort of deliberate 
pause, which gave a curious effect to her 
slightest sentence. She addressed most of 
her remarks to me, avoiding, I thought, in a 
somewhat peculiar way, her lover's glances. 
Now and then her brows were knit as if in 
momentary pain ; now and then she drooped 
her sweet lips; and once I was certain that I 
intercepted a startled light of perplexity and 
almost terror in her eyes. 

I said to myself, however, that I was 
prejudiced, that the knowledge of the mother's 
history made me read more than I ought in 
the daughter's face. 

The dance that evening was a particularly 

11 We need not go anywhere," she answered. 
" Let us walk up and down here," 

"But you are cold— you are trembling." 

" I do not tremble from cold," she replied. 
" Mr. Gilchrist, I must confide in someone — 
it is all too horrible. You are Lucian's best 
friend, are you not ? " 

(t One of his best friends/ I answered 
u Why do you ask?" 

11 How am I to tell you the truth ? " she 
replied, "You know I am to marry him the 
day after to-morrow ? " 

M Of course." 

" I will not break off the engagement, for 
I am no coward. Besides, if my suspicions 
are true, I shall wish to be able to revenge 
myself" Original from 




" What do you mean by your suspicions ? " 
1 asked, "suspicions against Lucian,, the best 
fellow in the world ? M 

li Ah," she answered with a laugh, so strange 
that it curdled me, " You don't know him 
as well as I do. Lucian is not what he seems- 
Bend down, for I must not speak aloud. I 
must on no account inform my poor mother 
of the awful truth." 

" What is it, Miss Joliffe? Speak out, you 
startle me," 

" You will be more startled when you know 
all Luci an T s love for me has changed — he 
is trying to poison me." 

" What nonsense," I answered. " You 
must be mad to talk in that way/' 

The next moment I was sorry that I had 
used the word. She started away from me T 
and put up both her hands to her face with a 
puzzled and terrified gesture, 

" Mad," she said, " I mad ? What do you 
mean ? It is he, poor fellow, who has lost 

eV-tf ^* 



his senses. Of course, he cannot know what 
fie is doing. Were he in his ordinary frame 
of mind he would not act as he has acted 
more than once during the last couple of 
days. Only half an hour ago, Mr. Gilchrist, 
I saw him put a powder into the champagne 
which he wished me to drink. Oh, it is too 
terrible ; what is to become of me ? " 

I thought for a moment, and then took 
my cue- 

"You are excited and over -wrought " I 

Vol* Kii.— 23. 

said. u There is no use in telling you that 
your imagination is running away with you, 
for in your present state of mind you would 
not believe me- I will speak to Maxwell." 

14 But you will not tell him that I suspect 
him ? That would make him more cunning 
than ever/ 1 

"No, no, I will say nothing to implicate 
you ; you look dreadfully tired, will you not 
go to bed ? w 

<L I nm terribly exhausted," she answered ; 
" but don't think that 1 am inventing this, I 
saw it all too plainly. He carries the poison 
in his pocket, and only waits for the moment 
to give it to me* Gh, yes, I shall marry him, 
and if he persists in his fiendish resolve I 
know how I can have my revenge," 

She laughed again 3 her bright blue eyes 

completely altered in expression, they 

glittered horribly. The laughter had not died 

away on her lips before Maxwell joined us, 

11 My darling/' he said, putting his hand on 

I .aura's shoulder, 
"I have been 
looking for you, 
you have had no 
supper — come 
with me at once, 
I insist on your 
having a glass of 

She gave me a 
glance full of 

"I would rather 
Mr. Gilchrist took 
me to supper," 
she said. 

t( Well, humour 
her then, Gil- 
christ," said 
Maxwell, raising 
h is brows in 
momentary sur- 
prise. " Laura, I 
want you to go to 
bed after you have 
had some supper." 
"Very well, Lucian," she answered, in her 
peculiarly sweet, low voice. 

He gave her an earnest glance which she 
would not meet. She laid her hand on my 
arm, and I took her to the supper-room. 

"Now," she said, "get me something 
quickly, I am so hungry. Some chicken and 
aspic jelly, please, and plenty of cham- 
pagne. 51 

I supplied her wants, and she ate and drank 
feverishlyQ r j a '|j^ j colour returned to her 



1 7 8 


cheeks from the action of the stimulant, and 
after a time she stood up. 

" 1 am better," she said, "the awful fear is 
not so haunting." 

" When did you feel it first ? " I asked. 

" On the day my mother and I arrived 
here, but only very slightly. All to-day, 
however, the dread has become worse and 
worse until now it is an assurance. The 
sight of the powder convinces me. Oh poor, 
poor, poor mother, she shall never know. I 
will marry Lucian and hide my misery. 
Once I loved him well. Oh, why has his love 
for me turned to hate ? " 

I saw that she would give way to tears 
unless I hurried her out of the supper-room. 

"Go to bed at once," I said, "I will get 
to the bottom of this mystery for you. You 
have confided in me, and I promise to be 
your friend." 

" How kind you are," she said. 

She held out her hand, which I grasped. 
A moment later she had left me. 

I hurried off to the ball-room, where I met 
Mrs. Joliffe. 

" Are you engaged for the next dance ? " I 

"Yes," she replied, looking at her pro- 
gramme, "but I don't want to dance. I 
shall throw my partner over. This place is 
over-heated ; let us go out of doors." 

I accompanied her. 

" Mrs. Joliffe," I said, the moment we got 
outside, " you must be prepared for a very 
painful piece of information." 

"That you do not intend to keep your 
word ? " she said. 

" It has nothing to do with that. You are 
a brave woman, and I am sure you will take 
what I am about to tell you bravely." 

Her face turned pale ; she pressed one 
hand against her heart. 

" I am accustomed to shocks," she said. 
" I know what you have come to tell me. 
Lucian has discovered my secret." 

" He knows nothing, all your suspicions 
are wide of the mark ; what I have to tell 
you is far more terrible " 

" Good heavens ! speak ! " she cried. 

" Your daughter " 

" I^iura ? What of her ? Is she ill ? " 

" In one sense she is very ill. Mrs. 
Joliffe, she inherits your malady. To-night 
she gave way to an aggressive form of the 
madness which at intervals wrecks your 

" Impossible ! " said the miserable woman. 
She stepped back a few paces and looked up 
at me with glittering eyes. I gave her a 

Digitized by CjOOQIC 

faithful version of the incident which had 
just taken place. When I had done speaking 
she covered her face with her hands. 

" Has all my suffering and my self-denial 
been in vain, then ? " she cried. " All the 
years of loneliness, of horror, have not been 
sufficient to avert the curse. Oh, my God ! 
why should it fall on her— on her, my inno- 
cent angel ? Was not one victim enough ? 
What is to become of me? " 

"Try to calm yourself and listen to me," 
I said. " Mrs. Joliffe, I do not think this 
marriage ought to go on." 

" Mr. Gilchrist, it must go on. I think of 
no one but Laura, and you are bound in 
honour not to betray me. I know, none 
better, the workings of the insidious and 
terrible malady. Have I not gone through 
it all ? Laura feels badly to-night, but to- 
morrow in all probability she will be her 
own happy self again. The attacks at first 
are always slight. Laura will be quite well 
to-morrow, that is, unless she gets a shock. 
If she gets a shock now she will be a maniac 
for life. Mr. Gilchrist, I hold you to your 

I was silent 

" You are bound in honour, I hold you to 
your promise," repeated the unhappy woman. 

" What can be the matter?" said Maxwell's 
voice at that moment. " Why, Gilchrist, you 
look quite pale ; Mrs. Joliffe, I have come 
to claim you, this is our dance, is it not ? " 

She put her hand on his arm, made some 
light and laughing remark, and turned away. 

I went upstairs to my own room. 

It is needless to say that, during that night, 
no sleep visited my eyes. My position was 
sufficiently embarrassing to test the nerves of 
a strong man. I had obtained, through an 
accident, the possession of a ghastly secre% 
which first concerned Mrs. Joliffe and then 
her daughter. Both mother and daughter 
were victims. The girl was about to marry 
my greatest friend. I had given my word of 
honour not to betray the secret. 

For long hours I paced up and down my 
room. What was I to do? Without 
being a doctor myself I found myself 
in the position of the family physician. 
It is an understood thing that a doctor 
does not betray his patients' secrets. On 
that point I entertained strong views. 
Here was a case which illustrated the theory. 
Without being a doctor I was in the position 
of one— I felt bound to be faithful to Mrs. 
Joliffe. Unless Maxwell found out Laura's 
terrible malady during the following day I 
could do nothing to enlighten him. 



J 79 



I went downstairs to breakfast, feeling ill 
at ease ; afterwards I strolled away by my- 
self. My one hope, and it was a miserable 
one, was that Laura would betray herself that 
day, and that Maxwell 
would be warned in time 
before he was united to 
a mad wife* To my 
distress, however, her 
mother's words with 
regard to the young girl 
turned out to be correct. 
When she came 
to breakfast she 
looked calm 
and happy, her 
eyes met mine 
with serene un- 
I managed to 
have a chat 
with her, and 
found to my 
added perplexity that 
she had forgotten every 
word she had spoken 
to me on the previous 
evening, She was de- 
voted to her lover, ajid 
went about the grounds 
hanging on his arm. 
Mrs, Joliffe gave me one or two triumphant 

I could not join the rest of the happy 
party. I went away to the wood, and finding 
a secluded spot sat down to think out the 
situation. I must keep Mrs. Joliffe's secret, 
but at the same time I must take some 
means to rescue Maxwell from the appalling 
fate which hung over his head. Suddenly, as 
I thought, a memory returned to me, I 
seemed to hear my friend, Dr, Everzard, 

" Brain disease," he said, " is often due to 
functional disturbance and consequent mal- 
nutrition of certain centres. If we can, 
therefore, ascertain where the brain is at 
fault, a rational line of treatment is pointed 

I sprang to my feet 

H I have it/' I cried aloud, excitedly. 

Had there been time I would have gone 
to consult Dr. Everzard, but there was none. 
The wedding was to take place at two 
o'clock on the following day. I could not 
possibly reach Fairleigh Manor and return 
within the allotted time to Combe Ashley. 
But 1 might go to London and be back 
before the wedding. With Dr. Everzard's 

Digitized by C-OOglC 


remark in my mind, I thought carefully over 
the experiments which I had lately made 
with regard to animal extracts as a means of 
cure. If Everzard s idea were correct, there 

was a certain 
portion of 
Laura Joliffe's 
brain which 
was not suffi- 
ciently nour- 
ished. The 
new line of 
pointed out a 
definite cure 
for this. If I 
could supply 
the unhappy 
girl with those 
portions of 
brain which 
were faulty in 
her own, I 
might gradually overcome 
tbe terrible malady which 
threatened her. In short, 
now was the time for me 
to test the experiments 
which I had so lavishly 
made in my little labora- 
tory in Eloomsbury. 
There was not a moment to lose, I hurried 
to the house. 

Maxwell was smoking a cigar on the terrace 
in front of the house. 

" Maxwell/' I said, "will you order a trap 
immediately? I must catch the next train. 
I shall be back here by twelve to-night, if that 
is not too late." 

" Not a bit," replied Maxwell ; " I will sit 
up for you," 

He hurried off to give directions, and in a 
very short time I found myself driving to the 
railway station* 

I caught my train, and reached St. Pancras 
in good time, I drove straight home, entered 
my laboratory, secured a certain box of carefully 
prepared medicine, and took the next train 
back to Derbyshire, After twelve that night 
I was once more in my friend's house. 
Maxwell came to meet me + 

" You look fagged," he said; "come and 
have some supper, it is waiting for you. JI 

I went into the dining-room, made a hearty 
meal, and then asked Maxwell if the other 
guests had retired to bed- 

"All except Mrs, Joliffe, For some 
reason she seems to be in a strangely nervous 
condition, She asked when you would 


i So 


return, and said she would like to speak to 

" She is the very person I want to see," I 
answered. " Let me go to her at once." 

"I suppose I must not know what the 
mystery is ? " 

"I am afraid I cannot tell it you," I 
answered, looking at him earnestly. 

For answer he fixed his eyes on my face. 

" I had a bad ten minutes to-day," he said. 
" La Ura » 

"What of her?" I asked. 

" Nay, I will not tell you, she is all right 
again now. You will find her mother in the 
library ; do not let her keep you up long." 

I went to Mrs. Joliffe with a sinking heart 

She started up eagerly when she saw me. 

" What do you mean to do ? " she asked, 
coming forward. 

" This," I said. I took the box which I 
had brought from town out of my pocket. 

"What does that box mean ?" she asked. 

" Sit down and listen to me quietly," I said. 
" I have been making experiments, important 
experiments, with regard to a new cure. I 
need not waste time now in repeating to you 
exactly what I have done. Your part is to 
obey my directions implicitly." 

" If I do not ? " she asked. 

" Then I shall consider myself absolved 
from my promise, and will tell Maxwell the 
entire truth." 

" I will do anything you wish," she said. 

She was trembling exceedingly. At this 
moment she was obliged to lean her hand 
against the nearest table to keep herself up- 

"The box which I have brought with me 
from town," I continued, "contains capsules. 
These capsules are made of gelatine, and 
each of them contains a certain dose. The 
medicine is of a new and important kind. In 
my opinion, and in that of Dr. Everzard, it 
acts in a direct manner upon the higher 
nervous centres. There is a strong possi- 
bility, Mrs. Joliffe — remember, I cannot speak 
with certainty — but there is a very strong 
possibility that within this little box lies the 
cure of your daughter's malady." 

" God grant it," she said ; her great eyes 
glistened through sudden tears. 

" Your daughter must take three of these 
capsules daily," I continued. " You must 
get her to promise this. Give her one when 
she wakes in the morning, give her another 
before she leaves here with her husband. 
Wring a promise from her that she will never 
omit to take three daily." 

"I will do so," she answered. "God 

Digitized by CiOOQ I C 

bless you, Mr. Gilchrist. Have you anything 
more to say ? " 

" Yes ; Miss Joliffe must also furnish you 
with her address. There are enough capsules 
in that box to last her exactly a month. If 
they do anything for her, she will in all 
probability be obliged to continue the cure 
for months, perhaps years. I must be placed 
in a position to be able to supply her with 
more capsules — the whole thing is an experi- 
ment, and it may fail, but it is the very best I 
can do." 

" There is no fear of any other evil result- 
ing from the use of this strange medicine ? " 
asked the mother. 

" None whatever. If the capsules do no 
good, they will at least do no harm. I have 
taken many of them myself. Remember I 
have hopes, strong hopes, but no certainty. 
This, however, is the only thing that I can 

The tears again sprang to Mrs. Joliffe's 

" You are a good man," she said ; " you 
shall be obeyed in every particular." 

She left the room. 

.The next day Laura and Maxwell were 
married. The wedding ceremony took place 
without a hitch, and no bride ever looked 
more lovely. 

I was standing in the hall when the bride 
and bridegroom went away. Maxwell had 
forgotten something, and had to hurry back 
to one of the sitting-rooms. For a moment 
the bride and I found ourselves alone. She 
came quickly to my side. 

" I remember now all that I said to you 
the other night," she whispered. "Oh! Mr. 
Gilchrist, the awful fear is over me again — 
the terrible, maddening fear. From this out 
I shall be alone with him ; I know he means 
to poison me — but if he does, remember that 
I — I have taken means to have my revenge." 

She laughed as she spoke, that light, in- 
consequent, terrible laughter of the insane. 
Her lovely face also underwent a vivid change. 
For one flashing moment the angel went out 
of it, giving place to the fiend. 

" Take your medicine three times a day 
without fail," I whispered back, " and try to 
believe that this unpleasant sensation will 
quickly pass." 

" I have promised my mother to take those 
queer little pills," she replied. 

" Repeat your promise to me ; I am certain 
you are a woman of your word." 

" I am, I never broke it yet. Here comes 

Her face altered, the fear seemed to die 




out of it, the angel look returned. She 
sprang into the carriage, laughter on her 
lips ? the light of happiness in her blue 

What I suffered during the next few weeks 
it is difficult to describe. No news reached 
me with regard to Maxwell and his bride, 
Mrs. Joliffe, according to her determination, 

"Read that portion," she said, pointing to 
the third page. I did so, 

" I am glad to be able to tell you/* wrote 
Max well , u that Laura, who was nervous and 
depressed, and was at times, I must add, 
very strange during the first fortnight of our 
honeymoon, has now quite recovered her 
normal spirits. She is really in excellent 
health, has a good appetite, and is putting on 


returned to Fairleigh Manor. My sleep was 
broken at night, my waking hours were 
haunted by the dread of a terrible cata- 
strophe. Had I done right, had 1 done 
wrong? This question haunted me day and 
night. Would the capsules effect a cure, or 
would Maxwell find out when too late that 
I could have warned him against his awful 
fate and yet did not do so? 

At last, on a certain fine morning, one 
month after the wedding, I could stand the 
mental strain no longer, and hurried off to 
Fairleigh Manor. 

As soon as I got there I had an interview 
with Mrs. Joliffe. She came eagerly to 
meet me, her face was bright, her eyes full 
of happiness. She placed a letter in my 
hands, I saw at a glance that the writing 
was Maxwell's. 

flesh, I doubt, when we return to England, 
if you will know her for the fragile girl who 
left her native land a short time ago + There 
is only one odd thing about her : she insists 
on dosing herself with some extraordinary 
little capsules three times daily. She is look- 
ing over me as I write, and begs me to say 
that the supply is nearly out, and she wants 
some more. She thinks they have a wonder- 
ful effect upon her, soothing her nerves in an 
inexplicable manner," 

11 I have brought a fresh bos of medicine 
with me," I said, " Please send it to Mrs. 
Maxwell bv the next post," 

"Mr. Gilchrist," said" Mrs, Joliffe, u l 
intend to try your medicine on myself, If it 
has effected a cure on my child, why not on 

me r 

> » 

*' Why not, truly ? " I answered. 

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Original from 











J- A* 






! 1 


" — 





].S 4 





by Google 

Original from 







VoL xii^-24* 

by Google 

Original from 

Some Curious Public School Customs 

By Thomas Staveley Oldham. 

1TON is admittedly the chief 
rowing school in England, as 
anyone can tell who scans the 
lists of the oarsmen who have 
taken part in the Oxford and 
Cambridge Boat Races. But 
at Eton it is by no means a matter of course 
that a new arrival may start on his aquatic 
career without the authorities knowing all 
about it. No boy is allowed to go on the 
river till he has learned to swim, and it is 
necessary to pass a regular examination before 
two masters, who are very particular in re- 
quiring a good "header," as well as plenty of 
swimming power. 

A punt full of naked candidates is moored, 
near Cuckoo Weir, about 25yds. from a pole 
planted to serve as a goal, and in presence of 
the two " passing masters/ 1 and generally 
also a crowd of spectators, each boy in turn 
has to swim to and from the pole, to turn 
on his back, and show that he knows how to 
float A boy who makes a bad dive, and 
falls flat on the water, is always turned back. 
This custom of *' passing" in swimming 
dates from 1839 or 1840, when a boy was 
drowned by being thrown out of his boat by 
a barge rope nearly opposite the Eton College 
Boat Club, formerly Tollad ays. The accident 

happened on a Saturday, and before Monday 
morning the late Bishop of New Zealand, G. 
Selwyn, and Mr. Evans, two of the masters, 
drew up, at Dr. Haw trey's request, the rules 
for 4t passing," which have continued in force 
ever since. 

Speaking of the river at Eton reminds us 
of a very curious and absurd custom which 
formerly prevailed at the school, called 
"shirking," Boys were allowed to boat on 
the Thames, but all the approaches to it 
were "out of bounds," and so were the 
streets of Windsor leading to the Castle 
terrace, although it was quire lawful to walk 
on the said terrace. So that if you wanted 
to have your hair cut, or cash a money order 
at the post-office, or go to the tailor for a 
new coat, for which your tutor had given you 
an order, you had to go "out of bounds." 

College boundary was marked by what was 
known as the "shirking stone," let into the 
wall on the Eton side of Barnes Pool Bridge, 
of which we give an illustration on the next 

This contradictory system led to "shirk- 
ing," which meant that if when you were out 
of bounds you met a master, you promptly 
popped into the nearest shop, and the master 
thereupon pretended not to see you -and 

from a J'tato b$] 



** : £<ittndtrt. 



passed on. Or, if boys were 
hurrying back to college and a 
master chanced to be in front 
of them, they would not dare to 
pass him, and although he might 
be perfectly well aware of their nee, etiquette forbade him 
to look round. This ridiculous 
and humiliating state of affairs 
was abolished by Dr. Goodford 
in i860. 

One of the best known of 
Eton customs is the celebration 
on the 4th of June, a very pretty 
scene being afforded by a pro- 
cession of the school boats 
rowing up to Surly. It used to 
be the practice before outriggers 
came into vogue, and when the 
long boats were " tubs," for each 
boat to carry a il sitter" to dine with the 
crews at Surly. The " sitters " were generally 
well-known old Etonians or distinguished 
strangers. It is recorded that George Can- 
ning, the famous Prime Minister, went up 
as "sitter "in the Monarch 10-oar, in the year 
1824, and T great and powerful statesman as 
he was, he was 

i H I k K 1 KG-&TQN E —ETON, 

somewh at 
alarmed at the 
press of boats, 
is some- 


^- to foil 

Winchester, he used always to 
be the unwilling subject of a 
number of more or less playful 
customs. For instance, when 
young Greenhorn makes his first 
appearance, some wag asks him, 
in the kindest way, if he has a 
certain book, without which he 
is assured it will be impossible 
to get through his lessons. Of 
course, Greenhorn does not 
possess this imaginary volume, 
but his tormentor offers the use 
of his own, which he has lent 
to Smith, to whom Greenhorn 
accordingly goes. Smith has 
lent it to Jones, so Greenhorn 
goes to him, only to find that 
the invaluable work in question 
is in the sick house, whence he 
is again sent back to school, and after a 
peregrination of this sort round the entire 
precincts, he is ultimately referred to one of 
the masters, who gently acquaints him with 
the fact that he has been made a fool of. 

Another proceeding with a new boy is to ask 
him if he is of "founder's kin," £&, of the 

family of William 
of Wykeham, the 
illustrious founder 
of the college in 
the fourteenth 
century; and 
whatever the 
reply, its accuracy 
is put to the test 
by the investi- 
gator trying to 
break a plate over 
the victim's head, 
the theory being 
that if the plate 
breaks first his 
ancestry is clearly 

Another pecu- 
liar custom {now 
done away with) 
of tl Taking the 




times tremendous, as they row round the eyot 
near Windsor Bridge, when the fireworks are 
let off in the evening. 

When a boy made a start in school-life at 

Oath*" Once a year all the boys over fifteen 
years of aj, r e paraded in chapel and had 
administered to them, in Latin, a solemn 
oath, to the effect that they would defend 
and befriend the college through good and 
evil report. In connection with this, it is 
interesting to record that, according to an 
old and well-authenticated tradition, Oliver 
Cromwell ? in hi? high-handed way, had re- 
soh,^!^^- ^WlfiflBAN 111 disestablish- 



t ■.■>■.. f/l' 1 'l."t. if ; },.;,. 


[WMwtn £pqnJ, pdULfetl in /«I7, 

merit of the college, but was turned from his 
purpose by the strenuous representations of 
two of his officers, Colonel Nathaniel Fiennes 
and Colonel Nicholas Love, who, being old 
Wykehamists and mindful of their oath, suc- 
ceeded in saving the school from the fate to 
which it had been decreed by the Lord High 
Protector of the Commonwealth, and which 
would certainly have overtaken it but for 
their timely intervention. 

I( Standing-up " was an annual institution 
by which boys were tested in their knowledge 
of the ( i reek and I^atin lines learnt during 
the preceding twelve months. One boy is 
recorded to have successfully repeated no 
fewer than ro,ooo lines, 

Another boy, of less studious habits, 
escaped disgrace by a stratagem. He and 
his brother were twins, and the latter got 
through his " standing up" with much credit, 
but, on coming away from the school-room, 
met his brother, who was wholly unprepared. 
The boy who had already gone through the 
ordeal undertook, in a truly fraternal spirit, 
to do it again, and having altered his hair a 
little and stuck a piece of plaster on his nose, 
by way of varying the family likeness, he 
presently appeared again before the unsus- 
pecting master, and triumphantly repre- 
sented his scapegrace of a brother. The 

last week of Long Half was known as 
" Election Week," when thci Warden and two 
Fellows of New College, Oxford, came down 
for the examination of candidates for admis- 
sion to Winchester and of Winchester boys 
who wished to go to New College, These 
high dignitaries were received at Middle 
Gate by the boys, headed by the Prefect of 
Hall, who addressed them w T ith a I-atin 
oration (ad portas). A representation of this 
solemnity is given on the following page, It 
saw the beginning and the end of the 
careers of two generations of Wykehamists, 
and was naturally a day of the greatest 
interest and excitement in the school. 

Coming to Westminster, the third in order 
on the list of great schools dealt with in the 
14 Public Schools Act, 1864," perhaps the 
best known custom is that of the " West- 
minster Play/' which is given once a year 
in the old dormitory, transformed into a 
theatre for the occasion. It is probable that 
these performances began in the reign of 
Henry VIII. ; but it is quite certain that very 
soon after Queen Elizabeth came to the throne 
Latin plays were acted by the boys. We give 
a translation of one or Her Majesty's statutes 
relating to this ancient custom : — 


1 89 




lime more profit ably, we enact thai every year within 
12 days after Christmas, or sulisequently at the Dean's 
discretion, the Head Master and the Under Master 
shall jointly see that one play in Latin is acted. If 
they fail in this duly a fine of los, is to be imposed on 
the party at fault. 

And accordingly a play in Latin has been 

acted every year since those days by th^ 
Westminster boys, except when there has 
been a death in the Royal Family during the 
year. When the Prince of Wales was so 
dangerously ill in December, 1871, fags were 
sent from time to time to bring to the school 
copies of the bulletins, which were placed 
during the day and night at Storey's Gate, so 
that the elaborate preparations for the play 

Ftvmi o Photo, ty] 


! Wr <* A II. Fry* Brighton. 




might be stopped in the event 
of the Prince's death. 

The " Prologue/' a topical 
effusion, written in Latin, for 
the current year, by some 
classical Old Westminster, 
or sometimes by the head- 
master, is always 
delivered, before the 
play commences, by 
the captain of the 
school, faultlessly 
arrayed in knee - 
breeches, silk stock- 
ings, shoes with 
buckles, and white 
tie. The scenes of 
the play used to be 
kept in the triforium 
in the north transept 
of the Abbey. 

Westminster boys, 
if duly attired in cap 
and gown, have the 
privilege of attend- 
ing debates in either 

House of Parliament No balloting or other 
formality is required, but an arrangement is 
made by which seats are retained for a certain 
number of boys up to a specified time. This 
is one of the most jealously -prized customs 
of the place, and some years ago, when some 
little difficulty arose about the boys going 


JVurr.: .X*yh U\} U ltW.jltH4f.T /t'i'V 

into the House of Com- 
mons, a communication 
from the then head- master 
to Mr. Speaker led to the 
kilter exalted personage 
issuing fresh and stringent 
orders in confirmation of 
the ancient usage. 
Westminsters, also, 
have the long-estab- 
lished privilege of 
being present at 
Coronations. In 
ancient and mediae- 
val times the Coro- 
nation Rite con- 
tained elements of 
a democratic nature, 
such as the election 
of the Roman 
Emperors by the 
Imperial Guard, and 
the old German 
usage of popular 
election ; such also 
as the taking by the 
Sovereign of an oath to observe the rights of 
the subject. The oath> of course, remains 
now, and it is perhaps not wholly a fanciful 
parallel to follow Dean Stanley, and to assert 
that the assent of the people of England to 
the election of the Sovereign has found its 
voice, in modern days, through the shouts of 




the Westminster scholars H from their recog- 
nised seats in the Abbey" ("Memorials of 
Westminster Abbey ")♦ 

At Westminster there is a famous bar 
across the great school-room, from which 
used to hang a curtain dividing the upper 
school from the lower Over this bar the 
annual '* pancake tossing" takes place. 
Always on Shrove Tuesday the college cook 
appears in white apron and with his frying- 
pan, on which rests a specially made pancake, 
which he throws over the bar to be scrambled 
for by the boys. Whoever secures it in fair 
fight carries it in triumph to the Dean, who 
in conformity with long tradition rewards the 
successful champion with a guinea. In 1864, 
the cook, who had failed for several years to 
elevate the pancake right over the bar, so 
exasperated the boys by again depriving them 
of their fun — for there was no scramble if the 
pancake did not go over the bar — that they 
hurled at his head a shower of books, 
dictionaries, as being heaviest, by preference. 
He retaliated by flinging his frying-pan into 
the midst of the boys— and, in fact, there was 
a pretty quarrel, which was eventually adjusted 
by the Dean, with judicial impartiality, and 
to the satisfaction of all concerned. 

41 Epigrams " at Westminster are recited at 
school on a certain day every year on subjects 
duly announced beforehand by the head- 
master. Boys are allowed to write their epi- 
grams in any language— Latin, Greek, French, 
or English — and the reward, consisting of 
Queen's Maundy money, specially furnished 
from the Mint for the purpose, is then and 
there bestowed bv the head -master, accord- 
ing to merit of each particular production. 

Cowper, the poet, himself an "Old West- 
minster," thus refers 
to this custom : — o 

At Westminster, where 

Httle poets strive 
To set a distich upon 

six and iive t 
Where discipline helps 

opening buds of 

And makes his pupils 

proud with silver 

I was a poet, too. 

In the case of a 
school so old as 
Harrow it is remark- 
able that there are 
few, if any, ancient 
school customs, but 
there is much quaint 
local colour in the 

life of the boys in the different Houses. 
There lies before the writer a memorandum 
drawn up and signed by the authorities of 
one of the Houses, which is so curious in its 
detail that we think it may be interesting to 
give a few extracts ; for instance :— 

Only Lhose who have been three years in the House 

1* Wear any but the regulation school dress (except 
blue flannel coats in the summer term]* 

2. Come into Hall, or Lock-up, Supper, etc*, by 
the door next the Pantry. 

3, Stand or loiter near the House door within or 

4- Wear white waistcoats or have their umbrellas 
rolled up. 

5. Wear a cap or fez in the House courts, 

6. Whistle or sing in the House or in the courts* 

7. Cut or carve their name anywhere in or about 
the House. 

These regulations were evidently framed 
with a view to keeping new boys in their 
proper place, and petty and absurd as they 
seem, they doubtless were effective as a sort 
of discipline for unruly spirits. 

At Harrow one of the great features is 
what is known there as " house singing," in 
the evenings of the Christmas and Easter 
term* The greatest zest is shown in the 
house glee competitions— a most admirable 
institution, the example of which has been 
well followed by a more modern school, 
Clifton, where a similar custom prevails. 
The school songs of Harrow have done, and 
continue to do, much to engender that love 
of the old place which, to say the least of it, 
is no less marked in Old Harrovians than 
in other public school men. 


;OilJPwLiECaHQua£jB i n C HIGA r 



At Charterhouse, Shrove Tuesday, as at 
Westminster, brings its annual excitement in 
the shape of an institution known as the 
"lemon fight." Each boy at dinner is pro- 
vided with half a lemon, wherewith to flavour 
the customary pancake ; but it is a point of 
honour not to use the lemon for this very 
ordinary purpose, but to save it up for the 
spirited warfare which follows. u Gown 
Boys" range themselves against "The Rest/' 
and each side pelts the other with a vigour 
and persistency which leave little to be 
desired. It is a good opportunity to pay off 
old scores, and an unpopular bully has often 
found to his cost that his day of reckoning 
has come at last, 

At old Charterhouse the bell rang daily 
for chapel, and always sounded just so many 
strokes as there were pensioners in the 
establishment The first announcement of 
a death has sometimes been conveyed by the 
striking of one sound less than the number 
on the previous day. 

At Ru^by, as elsewhere, great attention is 
paid to the "new boy." "Hall Singing " is 
a pleasing ceremony to which his due intro- 
duction is not long delayed. 
For this exercise a table is 
necessary, whereon is placed 
a large jug filled to the 
brim with soap and water, 

beer, tea, sugar, salt, mustard, pepper, milk, 
and other appetizing ingredients too numerous 
to specify. The novice is directed to stand 
on the table with his legs as wide apart as 
possible, and to hold a lighted candle in each 
hand. Thus established, he is invited to sing 

a song. In most cases he does manage 
to carol forth some sort of song, the penalty 
of non-compliance with this ancient custom 
being the necessity— promptly enforced — of 
taking a good gulp of the mixture just 

But at Rugby the great thing is football; 
and when a boy receives a polite note from the 
captain of his House fifteen saying he may 
"take his cap," he is, or ought to be, happy 
for the rest of his school career. And when 
that career is ended his interest in Rugby 
and in football by no means ceases, for there 
are no fewer than three annual matches in 
which it is the regular custom for past 
members of the school to take part The 
matches are : — 

.Sixth Match , i.e., VI th Form v. the School. 
Old R u y\ Match* Le, , Past v , Presen t . 
Two Cock Houses v. School* 

The attendance of old Rugbeians at these 
matches is not specially arranged for by any 
organization in London, though post-cards 
are sent out to some old " Rugs " by the 
heads of House fifteens, to remind them of the 
dates. The peculiarity in the matter is that all 
old " Rugs " in these matches play on that side 

for which they 
would do battle 
if they were still 
at the school, cjf., 
a man who was 
low down in form 
when he left 
school has no 
allowance made 
for any ac- 
cession of 
earning that 
may have 
come with 
later years* 
He may be 
a Senior 
or have won 
the Ireland 
or the Cra- 
ven, but he 
may not join 
■cbt, the sacred 

band of the 
VL, and must perforce take side with 
the ht school" In the same way, he plays 
for the House he formerly belonged to, A 
well-known Rugby player, in his day a 
member of H. Vassall's famous Oxford XV M 
to whom wt _aie indebted for these parti- 

10m we are indebted fur 




a Photo. Hndl* lent bu Mr. A. Q. GuillmuiTd, a-Prtridetti oftht Hngbv Fmtball tfnbm. 

culars, tells us that he has seen as many as 
forty or fifty old " Rugs " come down to join 
these great yearly festivals. 

A curious regulation prevails at Rugby, 
forbidding boys, unless they are " swells," 
from walking about more than three in a 
group, and also compelling such groups to 
walk arm-in-arm. Swells, such as the "caps" 
and the Vlth, may walk about four or forty 
in a party if they like, and are not obliged 
to take arms. The " Holder of School 
Bags" is, of course, a swell, being generally 
the winner of the " Crick," i.e., the cross- 
country run from school gates round Crick 
Church and back. Theoretically, he is 
supposed to carry the bags of torn-up paper 
used as " scent/' but practically his duties 
are to generally arrange and supervise all 
matters relating to the cross-country run*, 
which have always been such a 
feature at Rugby, 

At Wellington, so called after 
the Great Duke, which is, of 
course, quite a modern establish- 
ment, all the dormitories are 
named, as is fitting in a military 
school, in memory of great com- 
manders, such as Anglesey, 
Bliicher, Orange {William III,), 
Hopetoun, Hill, Lynedoch, 
Murray. Here there has rot 
yet grown up any specially 
curious custom, but one pecu- 
liarity in connection with the 
place which we may mention is 
the great gathering of the boys 
for singing on the night before 
the school breaks up. It is 
quite an unwritten rule, but by p-Vrtir 1 

some mysterious influencej as 

the customary hour approaches, every boy finds 
his way to the foot of the " Hopetoun " stairs 
— always the same place— where every variety 
of youthful voice may be heard at its best. 

At Marlborough it is the custom for every 
boy each term to have an order for a cushion. 
What a boy wants with such an article, a 
thin cushion about 2^ft long, it is difficult 
for an ordinary outsider to see, but it seems 
they are carried about by the boys almost 
wherever they go, and are used to sit on in 
class or w T hen watching a crickut match, to 
wrap round books, as weapons of offence or 
defence^ or in a variety of ways as occasion 
requires. Sometimes a dandy would bring a 
cushion from home, beautifully embroidered, 
but this was considered effeminate, and has 
never become a popular habit 

Original fr 



With regard to the picturesque dress worn at 
Christ's Hospital, we may explain that the 
coat is blue with bright metal buttons, and 
the stockings yellow. The waist is encircled 
by — not a belt, no Blue Coat calls it that — 
but by a girdle, i.e., a plain leathern strap 

Thursdays in Lent in the Great Hall, and 
the public are admitted to the ceremony, 
which always begins with prayer, and is 
presided over by the I^ord Mayor or one of 
the Sheriffs of London. 

In the first quarter of the present century the 


with a buckle, the breadth and embellishment 
of which depend on the boy's position in the 
school. They wear no head-dress of any 
sort now, though formerly a cloth cap was 
used. The result of this regulation, strange 
to say, seems to be that " Blues " are by no 
means liable to colds in the head, and never 
seem to feel cold weather* 

Of old customs still observed we may refer 
to the going to the Mansion House for the 
" Easter Bobs " (as the boys call it), and the 
Public or Lenten Suppers. The former 
ceremony annually attracts a good deal of 
public attention^ as the boys march "in 
fours " through the streets of the City to the 
Mansion House, where they are forthwith 
regaled with two buns apiece. Thus fortified b 
they file before the Lord Mayor, who, from 
sundry piles of new money on the table 
before him, presents each "Grecian " with a 
sovereign, and all the other boys, according 
to their standing, with coins of lesser value. 
Before they retire the boys have a glass of 
lemonade, and we are sure it will be news to 
some to hear that at one time the alternative 
of sherry was permitted. This form of "local 
option," however, has now been abolished. 

The public suppers are held on four 

boys were not allowed to go out of the gntes 
without a " ticket of leave "—a small brass 
tablet attached by a string to a button of the 
coat— and it was generally understood that 
any person seeing a boy out without a ticket 
would receive a reward on bringing him 




We may mention an interesting feature at 
Glenalmond, the well-known Scotch public 
school, whose youthful riflemen, in their kilts, 
make such a picturesque figure at the 
great annual rifle shooting gathering at 
Bisley. The Warden of Glenalmond, whether 
or not he has any personal peculiarities, 
is always christened and known as "Gru" — 
just as every king of ancient Egypt was 
called Pharaoh. It appears that one of the 
early Wardens once put a question to the 
sixth form to which no one was able to give 
any answer whatever, and, disappointed at 
the silence of his scholars, he was heard to 
mutter in Greek, "0/Z& ypP," not even a 
grunt. The " Gru " was fastened on by the 
boys, and has remained as a sort of dynastic 
title ever since. 

At Shrewsbury it is the custom, on a given 
day, for the head of the school to ask the 


tmt $/* wife* wU. fiictv* fl»fc« 


head-master for a half-holiday for the sixth 
form, basing his appeal on the number of 
exercises which have been given the highest 
mark during the week. 

The highest mark is called "a 
cross" and the second "a tail." 
These marks were originally merely 
developments of the number 20, as 
explained in the accompanying 
facsimile of original exercises sup- * 
plied^to us by one of the school / 
authorities. Thus, 
when marking an 
exercise with 20, a 
tick was added when 
there was special occa- 
sion for satisfaction, 
and when a composi- 
tion seemed absolutely 
flawless the sign of 
plus was added to 
the number. These 
curious marks date 
from the time of Dr. 
Butler, 1797 - 1836, 




IT " » % I 

A "TAIL"—: 

and having gradually become recognised 
symbols, have continued to be used till the 
present day. 

The occasion on which a sixth form boy 
gains his first " cross" is always looked upon 
as a red-letter day in his school career. 

When University, Parliamentary, or other 
honours are gained by old Salopians, a half- 
holiday is usually asked for, and also when- 
ever a bishop or a judge can be discovered 
in the town. On the two latter occasions a 
Latin letter is addressed to the dignitary 
in question by the head of the school, ask- 
ing that the head -master may be applied to 
for the desired indulgence. In this ingenious 
and simple manner respect alike for the 
episcopal and the judicial Bench becomes a 
matter of habit with all but the most un- 
grateful of Salopian youth. When the school 
left its old habitation it brought away bodily 
the old boundary-wall between the Castle 
gates and what used to be called " School 
Gardens." This relic now stands between 
the Fives Court and the bath, near the 
cricket ground. It bears many names of old 
Salopians, but space having become doubly 
precious, it has been enacted that in future 
names are not to be of more than a certain 
limited size, and must be cut by the boys 
themselves, and not, as was formerly allowed, 
by a professional stone-cutter. On a fine 
afternoon, towards the end of the summer 
term, it is not unusual to see a line of boys, 
each with hammer and chisel, occupied in 
recording their names for the benefit and 
example of future generations. We are 
much indebted for the courtesy which enables 

us to give a photograph of this interesting 

mural survival, known to Salopians as 

"School Wall." 

On the general question of fights, we 
would remark that if man is a fighting 
animal so also is a boy ; and it always 
used to be the practice for boys at the 
public schools to 
settle their differences 
by a regular stand-up 
battle, conducted with 
due solemnity under 
the authority of 
properly selected 
" seconds " to see fair 
play. At most schools 
a particular spot was 
always held sacred for 
these youthful con- 
tests. At Westminster, 
SHRE ws lHmvERS|Ty0FM| ^ |l Ql^n days, it w~ 

*0« WomSU W*U 4* **<* * ***•*•< 

s Wtt 







a recognised privilege that the boys might 
fight in the cloisters. The late Earl of 
Albemarle relates in his book, " Fifty Years 
of my life," that the Princess Charlotte, who 
had driven down to Westminster to take him 
out on a half-holiday, found him forming one 
of the ring at a fight between John Erskine, 
afterwards Earl of Mar, and another boy. Her 
Royal Highness had to wait till the battle was 
over before her young friend could be brought 
away, At Eton a particular corner of the 
playing fields called "Sixpenny" was used. 
On this spot both the great Duke of Wel- 
lington and the poet Shelley had fought as 
boys, and long after those days it was the 
custom to challenge a schoolfellow by saying, 
" Will you fight me in Sixpenny ? " 

We do not propose to offer a disquisition 
on the vexed question of " fagging," but it 
may be permissible to remark that most 
men who have been brought up under the 
system of authorized "fagging" speak well 
of it as, on the whole, a good working arrange- 

At Charterhouse, the juniors had to fetch 
and carry water, and then go for their 
superiors' clean linen across an open court in 
the early mornings, which was not any 
particular joke in winter, when it was pitch 
dark, and perhaps a snowstorm or a torrent 
of hail and rain was coming down. 

At Westminster the fellows in the sixth form 
had book fags, whose duty it was to keep a list 


of the dictiona- 
ries, lexicons, and 
books generally 
which their parti- 
cular seniors re- 
quired "up 
school," and woe 
betide a defaulter 
who failed to bring 
up the right books 
at the right time. 

Cricket fagging, 
of course, is com- 
mon to many 
schools, and con- 
sists chiefly in 
being told off to 
" field out'* when 
the fellows in the 
first eleven are 
practising batting. 
At Harrow, the 
cricket fagging is 
managed by func- 
tionaries known 
as " slave -drivers," three or four boys 
specially appointed to carry out these im- 
port nt duties, 

" Watching out " at football is also a form 
of fagging common to many schools, 
" Kicking in " it is called at Winchester, 

At Glenalmond the term is "keeping 
terrace," which an old Glenalmond boy thus 
explains. The football ground was bounded 
by a gravel terrace, beyond which came a 
steep bank j sloping down to the River 
Almond. An iron railing runs along the top 
of the bank, but this is hardly enough to 
prevent an erratic football from finding a 
short cut to the river level, and it is 
to obviate this possibility that the u small 
game " boys, when big matches were 
being played, had to "keep terrace," i.e., 
to look out for the ball and send it back 
to the players if it came towards the bank. 
The youngsters turn out in great coats and 
Highland capes of every description, as in 
the immediate vicinity of the Grampians in 
mid-winter it is cold work standing about. 
If the ball did go right over and down the 
bank, of course it went into the river, and 
into the river, ice or no ice, it had to be 
followed by some unlucky fag, who contrived 
to dry and warm himself as best he could on 
his return. An unpleasant interview w T ith a 
monitor, as a matter of course, awaited any 
junior who cut "terrace keeping" without 
leave. Original from 


Portraits of Celebrities at Different Times of their Lives. 



Born i86r. 

IR T\ C. O'BRIEN was educated 
at Oxford University, where he 
established a reputation as a 
dashing batsman, one who might 
be depended upon to make runs 
required, He is at the present 

time one of 
the most popu- 
lar cricketers 
of the day. A 
most fearless 
player, he yet 
combines style 
with scoring 
powers. He is 
very smart in 
the field, and 
has before 
now proved a 
useful change 
bowler, al- 
though it is as 
a batsman he 
is known to 
fame. In 1894, 34'iQ represented his county 
average, and 30 the first-class figures, His 
highest score was no not out. Last year 
Sir T, C. O'Brien was very successful, secur- 

ing a county average of 40*3 and full 38*15. 
This season, on June 25 and 26, against 

AGE 2, 

Frmn a Photo- by Jamei Svnonton, Publin. 

From a Photo, by] 

AGE 23. [L&r*iXe* £'tw«ft»pfc Co, 

Surrey, he did much to secure the victory for 
his county, by playing a grand innings of 
137, at the OvaL 

i^rtihi a J'hoto. hyi ACE 12. ( Chan 'eWo r, /'ubiin. 


lEtl&tt & Ft?* 




IKE so many of 
our best actresses, 
Miss Broughton 
began her career at 
the very bottom of 
the ladder, yet so fruitful have 
her experiences been that, 
apart from Tier talents ns 
an actress, we now have 
in Miss Broughton one of 
our cleverest and most grace- 
ful dancers ; a fact that is 
universally appreciated. As 
a g i r 1 f Miss 
Broughton was 
a student at the 
Neville Drama- 
tic School, with 
thoughts of 
some day play- 
ing Juliet, or 
DesdemwW) or 
in "Macbeth' 3 ; 
but fate willed 
it otherwise, and 
she made her 
dibuitil the Can- 
terbury Music 
Hall, at the time 
under the direc- 
tion of Mr. Vil- 
liers, whose son 
later on married 


her sister Emma. She 
soon afterwards made her 
name at the Gaiety in 
the " Forty Thieves," her 
engagement at that 
theatre lasting five years. 
Since then Miss Broui^h- 
ton's career has been one 
uninterrupted series of 
successes in such well- 
known pieces as "The 
Old Guard," "In Town/ 


[EUiott £ Frgs 



and Railway Volunteer Staff Corps; a civil 
member of the War Office Ordnance Com- 
mittee ; and distinguishedly connected with 
many other scientific and literary bodies. 

The Forth 
Bridge, the 
greatest work of 
its kind in the 
world, was in- 
trusted to Mr, 
Fowler, now Sir 
John Fowler, 
K.C.M.G., 111 
con j u n cti o n 
with his partner, 

Audi a] 


Born 1840- 

well-known engineer, of Forth 
Bridge fame, began his distin- 
guished career in one of the oldest 
ironworks in South Wales. After 
several years of earnest study he came to 
London, and entered Sir John Fowler's 

AC£ 1 - 


office, and gradually took an important 
part in the many engineering works then in 
operation* including the Metropolitan and 
other railways of London- Sir Benjamin 
is now President of the Institute of Civil 
Engineers ; Lieut -Colonel in the Engineer 

From a Photo* bjf] AGE 45* 

[Alex, Bassana. 

Mr, Benjamin Baker, who was knighted in 
1889, made an LL.D. at Edinburgh, and 
created LCM,G, in 1890. 




From a] 



Born 1842. 
;0N of John Adam, a landscape 
painter of recognised ability, the 
late Denovan Adam, famous prin- 
cipally for his Highland cattle 
paintings, passed away in April of 
this year. For the animal creation he had an 

From, a Photo, by] age 29. [ Thorns* Annan, Glatpow. 

inherent love, and very early in his career his 
natural inclinations began to assert themselves, 
and the study that was destined to so success- 
fully dominate his art in after years claimed 
his attention* He studied the Antique at 

Kensington, and at eighteen he had been 
through the life-class at I^angham Chambers. 
Though resident in London till he was thirty, 
he visited the Highlands every year T and finally 
settled at Craigmill, near Stirling. Since 1868, 
Mr, Adam has been an exhibitor at the Royal 

j*"ncn>v a Photo, bg] 

AGE 4a 

[J* Mrtfat, Edinburgh. 

Scottish Academy, and has never missed a 
single year since 1875. Mr. Adam was elected 
an Associate in 1884, and eight years later 
was raised to the rank of Academician, 


University oTOhigan 


By Grant Allen, 

B ^ 

IKE most South Africans, Sir 
Charles Vandrift is anything 
but sedentary, He hates sit- 
ting down. He must always 
*'trek." He cannot live with- 
out moving about freely. Six 
weeks in May fair at a time is as much as he 
can stand. Then he must run away inconti- 
nently for rest and change to Scotland, Horn- 
burg, Monte Carlo, Biarritz. " I won't be a 
limpet on the rock/' he says. Thus it came 
to pass that in the early autumn we found 
ourselves stopping at the Metropole at 
Brighton. We were the accustomed nice 
little family party — Sir Charles and Amelia, 
myself and Isabel, with the suite as usual- 

On the first Sunday morning after our 
arrival, we strolled out, Charles and I — I 
regret to say during the hours allotted for 
Divine service — on to the King's Road, to get 
a whiff of fresh air, and a glimpse of the 
waves that were churning the Channel, The 
two ladies (with their bonnets) had gone to 
church ; but Sir Charles had risen late, 
fatigued from the week's toil, while I myself 
was suffering from a matutinal headache, 
which 1 attributed to the close air in the 
billiard-room overnight, combined, perhaps, 
with the insidious effect of a brand of soda- 
water to which I was little accustomed ; I 
had used it to dilute my evening whisky. We 
were to meet our wives afterwards at the 
church parade — -an institution to which I 
believe both Amelia and Isabel attach even 
greater importance than to the sermon which 
precedes it 




We sat down on a glass seat. Charles 
gazed inquiringly up and down the King's 
Road, on the look-out for a boy with Sunday 
papers. At last one passed. " Observer" 
my brother-in-law called out, laconically. 

"Ain't got none," the boy answered, 
brandishing his bundle in our faces. "'Ave 
a Referee or a Pink *Un* u 

Charles, however, is not a Refereader, 
while as to the Pink "Un, he considers it un- 
suitable for public perusal on Sunday morn- 
ing. It may be read indoors, but in the 
open air its blush betrays it. So he shook 
his head, and muttered, " If you pass 
an Observer \ send him on here at once 
to me." 

A polite stranger who sat close to us 
turned round w T ith a pleasant smile. *' Would 
you allow me to offer you one ? " he said, 
drawing a copy from his pocket. u I fancy 
I bought the last. There's a run on them 
to-day, you see. Important news this morn- 
ing from the Transvaal." 

Charles raised his eyebrows, and accepted 
it, as I thought, just a trifle grumpily, So, 
to remove the false impression his surliness 
might produce on so benevolent a mind, I 
entered into conversation with the polite 
stranger. He was a man of middle age, and 
medium height, with a cultivated air, and a 
pair of gold pince-nez ; his eyes were sharp ; 
his voice was refined ; he dropped into talk 
before long about distinguished people just 
then in Brighton, It was clear at once that 
he was hand in glove with many of the very 
best kind. We compared notes as to Nice, 




Rome, Florence, Cairo, Our new acquaint- 
ance had scores of friends in common with 
us, it seemed ; indeed, our circles so largely 
coincided, that I wondered we had never 
happened till then to knock up against one 

"And Sir Charles Vandrift, the great 
African millionaire," he said, at last, "do you 
know anything of him f I'm told he's at 
present down here at the M^tropole/' 

I waved my hand towards the person in 

i( This is Sir Charles Vandrift," I answered, 
with proprietary pride; "and /am his 
brother-in-law, Mr Seymour Wentworth." 

" Oh, indeed!" the stranger answered, 
with a curious air of drawing in his horns. I 
wondered whether he had just been going to 
pretend he knew Sir Charles, or whether per- 
chance he was on the point of saying some- 
thing highly uncomplimentary, and was glad 
to have escaped it 

By this time, however, Charles laid 
down the paper and chimed into our con- 
versa tion. I could see at once from his 
mollified tone that the news from the Trans- 
vaal was favourable to his operations in 
Cloetedorp Colcondas. He was, therefore, 
In a friendly and affable temper, His whole 
manner changed at once. He grew polite 
in return to the polite stranger. Besides, 
we knew the man moved in the best society ; 
he had acquaintances whom Amelia was most 
anxious to secure for her " At Homes " in 

Ma yfair— young Faiths 
the novelist, and 
Sir Richard Mont- 
rose, the great Arctic 
traveller. As for the 
painters, it was clear 

that he was sworn friends with the whole lot 
of them* He dined with Academicians, and 
gave weekly breakfasts to the members of 
the Institute. Now, Amelia is particularly 
desirous that her salon should not be con- 
sidered too exclusively financial and political 
in character : with a solid basis of M JYs and 
millionaires, she loves a delicate under- current 
of literature, art T and the musical glasses* 
Our new acquaintance was extremely com- 
municative : " Knows his place in society, 
Sey,"Sir Charles said to me afterwards, "and 
is therefore not afraid of talking freely, as so 
many people are who have doubts about 
their position," We exchanged cards before 
we rose. Our new friend's name turned out 
to be Dr, Edward Folperro* 

"In practice here ? }f I inquired, though 
lii s garb belied it 

" Oh, not medical," he answered. " I'm 
an LL.D., don't you know, I interest myself 
in art, and buy to some extent for the 
National Gallery," 

The very man for Amelia's "At Homes " : 
Sir Charles snapped at him instantly. "I've 
brought my four-in-hand down here with me," 
he said, in his best friendly manner, "and 
we think of too^ng ever to-morrow to I.ewes. 




If you'd care to take a seat, I'm sure Lady 
Vandrift would be charmed to see you." 

" You're very kind," the Doctor said, " on 
so casual an introduction. I'm sure I shall 
be delighted." 

"We start from the M&ropole at ten- 
thirty," Charles went on. 

" I shall be there. Good morning ! " And, 
with a satisfied smile, he rose and left us, 

We returned to the lawn, to Amelia and 
Isabel. Our new friend passed us once or 
twice. Charles stopped him and introduced 
him. He was walking with two ladies, most 
elegantly dressed in rather peculiar artistic 
dresses. Amelia was taken at first sight by his 
manner. " One could see at a glance," she 
said, " he was a person of culture and of real 
distinction. I wonder whether he could 
bring the P.R.A. to my Parliamentary 'At 
Home ' on Wednesday fortnight ? " 

Next day, at ten-thirty, we started on our 
drive. Our team has been considered the 
best in Sussex. Charles is an excellent, 
though somewhat anxious — or, might I say 
better, somewhat careful ? — whip. He finds the 
management of two leaders and two wheelers 
fills his hands for the moment, both literally 
and figuratively, leaving very little time for 
general conversation. Lady Belleisle of 
Beacon bloomed beside him on the box (her 
bloom is perennial, and applied by her maid) ; 
Dr. Polperro occupied the seat just behind 
with myself and Amelia. The Doctor talked 
most of the time to Lady Vandrift : his dis- 
course was of picture-galleries, which Amelia 
detests, but in which she thinks it incumbent 
upon her, as Sir Charles's wife, to affect now 
and then a cultivated interest. Noblesse 
oblige ; and the walls of Castle Seldon, our 
place in Ross-shire, are almost covered now 
with Leaders and with Orchardsons. This 
result was first arrived at by a singular 
accident Sir Charles wanted a leader — for 
his coach, you understand — and told an 
artistic friend so. The artistic friend brought 
him a Leader next week with a capital L ; 
and Sir Charles was so taken aback that he 
felt ashamed to confess the error. So he was 
turned unawares into a patron of painting. 

Dr. Polperro, in spite of his too pro- 
nouncedly artistic talk, proved on closer 
view a most agreeable companion. He 
diversified his art cleverly with anecdotes 
and scandals ; he told us exactly which 
famous painters had married their cooks, 
and which had only married their models ; 
and otherwise showed himself a most divert- 
ing talker. Among other things, however, 

Digitized by (j< 

he happened to mention once that he had 
recently discovered a genuine Rembrandt — a 
quite undoubted Rembrandt, which had 
remained for years in the keeping of a certain 
obscure Dutch family. It had always been 
allowed to be a masterpiece of the painter, 
but it had seldom been seen for the last half- 
century, save by a few intimate acquaintances. 
It was a portrait of one Maria Vanrenen of 
Haarlem, and he had bought it of her 
descendants at Gouda, in Holland. 

I saw Charles prick up his ears, though he 
took no open notice. This Maria Vanrenen, 
as it happened, was a remote collateral 
ancestress of the Vandrifts, before they 
emigrated to the Cape in 1780; and the 
existence of the portrait, though not its 
whereabouts, was well known in the family. 
Isabel had often mentioned it. If it was to 
be had at anything like a reasonable price, it 
would be a splendid thing for the boys (Sir 
Charles, I ought to say, has two sons at 
Eton) to possess an undoubted portrait of an 
ancestress by Rembrandt. 

Dr. Polperro talked a good deal after that 
about this valuable find. He had tried to 
sell it at first to the National Gallery ; but 
though the Directors admired the work 
immensely, and admitted its genuineness, 
they regretted that the funds at their disposal 
this year did not permit them to acquire so 
important a canvas at a proper figure. South 
Kensington again was too poor; but the 
Doctor was in treaty at present with the 
Louvre and with Berlin. Still, it was a pity 
a fine work of art like that, once brought 
into the country, should be allowed to go 
out of it. Some patriotic patron of the fine 
arts ought to buy it for his own house, or 
else munificently present it to the nation. 

All the time Charles said nothing. But 
I could feel him cogitating. He even 
looked behind him once, near a difficult 
corner (while the guard was actually engaged 
in tootling his horn to let passers-by know 
that the coach was coming), and gave Amelia 
a warning glance to say nothing committing, 
which had at once the requisite effect of 
sealing her mouth for the moment. It is a 
very unusual thing for Charles to look back 
while driving. I gathered from his doing so 
that he was inordinately anxious to possess 
this Rembrandt. 

When we arrived at Lewes, we put up our 
horses at the inn, and Charles ordered a 
lunch on his wonted scale of princely 
magnificence. Meanwhile we wandered, two 
and two, about the town and castle. I 
annexed Lady Belleisle, who is at least 


. i 


amusing. Charles drew me aside before 
starting. " Look here, Sey/ 1 he said, w we 
must be very careful. This man, Polperro, is 
a chance acquaintance. There's nothing an 
astute rogue can take one in over more 
easily than an Old Master. If the Rem- 
brandt is genuine, I ought to have it ; if it 
really represents Maria Vanrenen, it's a duty 
I owe to the boys to buy it. But IVe been 
done twice lately, and I won't be done a 
third time- We must go to work cautiously/ 1 

"You are right/' I answered. " No more 
seers and curates ! " 

14 If this mans an impostor/ 1 Charles went 
on— "and in spite of what he says about the 
National Gallery and so forth, we know 
nothing of him- -the story he tells is just the 
sort of one such a fellow would trump up in 
a moment to deceive me. He could easily 
learn who I was — I'm a well-known figure; 
he knew I was in Brighton, and he may have 
been sitting on that glass seat on Sunday on 
purpose to entrap me." 

" He introduced your name/ 3 I said, "and 
the moment he found out who I was, he 
plunged into talk with me." 

" Yes/ 1 Charles continued " He may- 
have learned about the portrait of Maria 
Vanrenen, which my grandmother always 
said was preserved at Gouda ; and, indeed, I 

myself have often mentioned it, as you doubt- 
less remember. If so, what more natural, 
say^ for a rogue than to begin talking about 
the portrait in that innocent way to Amelia? 
If he wants a Rembrandt, I believe they can 
be turned out to order to any amount in 
Birmingham. The moral of all which is, it 
behoves us to be careful/' 

" Right you are/ 1 I answered ; "and I am 
keeping my eye upon him." 

We drove back by another road, over- 
shadowed by beech trees in autumnal gold. 
It was a delightful excursion. ]>r. Polperro s 
heart was elated by lunch and the excellent 
dry Monopoly He talked amazingly. I 
never heard a man with a greater or more 
varied flow of anecdote* He had been 
everywhere and knew all about everybody. 
Amelia booked him at once for her "At 
Home" on Wednesday week, and he promised 
to introduce her to several artistic and literary 

That evening, however, about half-past 
seven, Charles and I strolled out together on 
the King's Road, for a blow before dinner. 
We dine at eight. The air was delicious. 
We passed a small, new hotel, very smart and 
exclusive, with a big bow window. There, 
in evening dress, lights burning and blind up, 
sat our friend, Dr. Polperro, with a lady facing 

by ^C 

BUB r*«Mtt P» ™^KHl^ r jgj na | f^pp 




him, young, graceful, and pretty. A bottle 
of champagne stood open before him. He 
was helping himself plentifully to hot-house 
grapes, and full of good humour. It was 
clear he and the lady were occupied in the 
intense enjoyment of some capital joke ; for 
they looked queerly at one another, and burst 
now and again into merry peals of laughter. 

I drew back. So did Sir Charles. One 
idea passed at once through both our minds. 
I murmured, " Colonel Clay ! " He answered, 
" And Madame Picardet ! " 

They were not in the least like the 
Reverend Richard and Mrs. Brabazon. But 
that clinched the matter. Nor did I see a 
sign of the aquiline nose of the Mexican 
Seer. Still, I had learned by then to discount 
appearances. If these were indeed the 
famous sharper and his wife or accomplice, 
we must be very careful. We were forewarned 
this time. Supposing he had the audacity to 
try a third trick of the sort upon us, we had 
him under our thumbs. Only, we must 
take steps to prevent his dexterously slipping 
through our fingers. 

" He can wriggle like an eel," said the 
Commissary at Nice. We both recalled those 
words, and laid our plans deep to prevent 
the man's wriggling away from us on this 
third occasion. 

" I tell you what it is, Sey," my brother- 
in-law said, with impressive slowness. "This 
time, we must deliberately lay ourselves out 
to be swindled. We must propose of our 
own accord to buy the picture, making him 
guarantee it in writing as a genuine Rem- 
brandt, and taking care to tie him down by 
most stringent conditions. But we must 
seem at the same time to be unsuspicious 
and innocent as babes ; we must swallow 
whole whatever lies he tells us, pay his price 
— nominally — by cheque for the portrait ; 
and then, arrest him the moment the bargain 
is complete, with the proofs of his guilt then 
and there upon him. Of course, what he'll 
try to do will be to vanish into thin air 
at once, as he did at Nice and Paris ; 
but, this time, we'll have the police in 
waiting, and everything ready. We'll avoid 
precipitancy, but we'll avoid delay too. 
We must hold our hands off till he's actually 
accepted and pocketed the money; and then, 
we must nab him instantly, and walk him off 
to the local Bow Street. That's my plan of 
campaign. Meanwhile, we should appear all 
trustful innocence and confiding guileless- 

In pursuance of this well-laid scheme, we 
called next day on Dr. Polperro at his hotel, 

Digitized by dOO^JC 

and were introduced to his wife, a dainty little 
woman, in whom we affected not to recognise 
that arch Madame Picardet or that simple 
White Heather. The Doctor talked charmingly 
(as usual) about art — what a well-informed 
rascal he was, to be sure ! — and Sir Charles 
expressed some interest in the supposed 
Rembrandt. Our new friend was delighted ; 
we could see by his well-suppressed eagerness 
of tone that he knew us at once for probable 
purchasers. He would run up to town next 
day, he said, and bring down the portrait. 
And in effect, when Charles and I took our 
wonted places in the Pullman next morning, 
on our way up to the half-yearly meeting of 
Cloetedorp Golcondas, there was our Doctor, 
leaning back in his arm-chair as if the car 
belonged to him. Charles gave me an 
expressive look. " Does it in style," he 
whispered, " doesn't he ? Takes it out of 
my five thousand; or discounts the amount he 
means to chouse me of with his spurious 

Arrived in town, we went to work at once. 
We set a private detective from Marvillier s 
to watch our friend ; and from him we learned 
that the so-called Doctor dropped in for a 
picture that day at a dealer's in the West-end 
(I suppress the name, having a judicious fear of 
the law of libel ever before my eyes), a dealer 
who was known to be mixed up before then 
in several shady or disreputable transactions. 
Though, to be sure, my experience has been 
that picture dealers are — picture dealers. 
Horses rank first in my mind, as begetters and 
producers of unscrupulous agents ; but 
pictures run them a very good second. Any- 
how, we found out that our distinguished art- 
critic picked up his Rembrandt at this dealer's 
shop, and came down with it in his care the 
same night to Brighton. 

In order not to act precipitately, and so 
ruin our plans, we induced Dr. Polperro 
(what a cleverly chosen name !) to bring the 
Rembrandt round to the Metropole for our 
inspection, and to leave it with us while we 
got the opinion of an expert from London. 

The expert came down, and gave us a full 
report upon the alleged Old Master. In his 
judgment, it was not a Rembrandt at all, but a 
cunningly-painted and well-begrimed modern 
Dutch imitation. Moreover, he showed us by 
documentary evidence that the real portrait 
of Maria Vanrenen had, as a matter of fact, 
been brought to England five years before, 
and sold to Sir J. H, Tomlinson, the well- 
known connoisseur, for eight thousand pounds. 
Dr. Polperro's picture was, therefore, at best 
either a replica by Rembrandt ; or else, more 




probably, a copy by a pupil ; or, most likely 
of all, a mere modern forgery. 

We were thus well prepared to fasten our 
charge of criminal conspiracy upon the self- 


accepted his assurances. Next came the 
question of price. This was warmly debated, 
for form's sake only. Sir J. H. Tomlinson 
had paid eight thousand for his genuine 
Maria. The Doctor demanded ten thousand 
for his spurious one + There was really no 
reason why we should higgle and dispute, for 
Charles meant merely to give his cheque for 
the sum and then arrest the 
fellow ; but, still, we thought 



styled Doctor. But in order to make assur- 
ance still more certain, we threw out vague 
hints to him that the portrait of Maria Van- 
renen might really be elsewhere, and even 
suggested in his hearing that it might not 
improbably have got into the hands of that 
omnivorous collector, Sir J* H. Tomlinson. 
But the vendor was proof against all such 
attempts to decry his goods. He had the 
effrontery to brush away the documentary 
evidence, and to declare that Sir J. H. 
Tomlinson (one of the most learned and 
astute picture- buyers in England) had been 
smartly imposed upon by a needy Dutch 
artist with a talent for forgery. The real 
Maria Vanrenen, he declared and swore, was 
the one he offered us. ifc Success has turned 
the man's head," Charles said to me, well 
pleased. " He thinks we will swallow any 
obvious lie he chooses to palm off upon us. 
But the bucket has come once too often to 
the well This time we checkmate him," 
It was a mixed metaphor, I admit ; but Sir 
Charles's tropes are not always entirely 
superior to criticism* 

So we pretended to believe our man, and 

Digitized by GoOglC 

it best for the avoidance of suspicion to 
make a show of resistance ; and we at 
last beat him down to nine thousand guineas. 
For this amount, he was to give us a 
written warranty that the work he sold us 
was a genuine Rembrandt, that it represented 
Maria Vanrenen of Haarlem, and that he 
had bought it direct, without doubt or ques- 
tion, from that good lady's descendants at 
Gouda, in Holland. 

It was capitally done. We arranged the 
thing to perfection. We had a constable in 
waiting in our rooms at the Metro pole, and 
we settled that Dr. Polperro was to call at 
the hotel at a certain fixed hour to sign the 
warranty and receive his money. A regular 
agreement on sound stamped paper was 
drawn out between us. At the appointed 
time, the "party of the first part 1 ' came, 
having already given us over possession of 
the portrait. Charles drew a cheque for the 
amount agreed upon, and signed it* Then 
he handed it to the Doctor. Polperro just 
clutched at it. Meanwhile, I took up my post 
by the door, while two men in plain clothes, 

detectives from. the. police-station, stood as 
Original from 




men-servants and watched the windows. We 
feared lest the impostor, once he had got the 
cheque, should dodge us somehow, as he had 
already done at Nice and in Paris, The 
moment he had pocketed his money with a 
smile of triumph, I advanced to him rapidly. 
I had in my possession a pair of handcuffs. 
Before he knaw what was happening I had 
slipped them on his wrists, and secured them 

"Are these two raving maniacs ? " he asked, 
at last, "or what do they mean by this non- 
sensical gibberish about Antonio Herrera?" 

The constable laid his hand on the 
prisoner's shoulder. 

<( It's all right, my man/' he said. " We've 
got warrants out against you. I arrest you, 
Edward Polperro, a/ias the Reverend Richard 
Peploe Brabazon, on a charge of obtaining 


dexterously, while the constable stepped 
forward. u We have got you this timet" I 
cried. u We know who you are t Dr. Polperro. 
You are— Colonel Clay ; alias Senor Antonio 
Herrera ; alias the Reverend Richard Peploe 
Brabazon.' 1 

I never saw any man so astonished in my 
life ' He was utterly flabbergasted, Charles 
thought he must have expected to get clear 
away at once, and that this prompt action on 
our part had taken the fellow so much by 
surprise as to simply unman him. He gazed 
about him as if he hardly realized what was 

D igitiz ed by \j OO 9 IC 

money under false pretences from Sir Charles 
Vandrift, K.C.M.G., M.P,, on his sworn 
information, now here subscribed to." For 
Charles had had the thing drawn out in 
readiness beforehand. 

Our prisoner drew himself up. " Look 
here, officer/ 1 he said, in an offended tone, 
"there's some mistake here in this matter. 
I have never given an a/ias at any time in 
my life. How do you know this is really Sir 
Charles Vandrift? It may be a case of 
bullying personation. My belief is, though, 
they're a pair of escaped lunatics." 

"We'll ^gWflSWcirtiat to-morrow/' the 




constable said, collaring him. "At present 
youVe got to go off with me quietly to the 
station, where these gentlemen will enter up 
the charge against you." 

They carried him off, protesting. Charles 
and I signed the charge-sheet ; and the 
officer locked him up to await his examina- 
tion next day before the magistrate. 

We were half afraid even now the fellow 
would manage somehow to get out on bail 
and give us the slip in spite of everything ; 
and, indeed, he protested in the most violent 
manner against the treatment to which we 
were subjecting "a gentleman in his posi- 
tion." But Charles took care to tell the police 
it was all right ; that he was a dangerous and 
peculiarly slippery criminal, and that on no 
account must they let him go on any pretext 
whatever, till he had been properly examined 
before the magistrates. 

We learned at the hotel that night, curiously 
enough, that there really was a Dr. Polperro, a 
distinguished art critic, whose name, we didn't 
doubt, our impostor had been assuming. 

Next morning, when we reached the 
court, an inspector met us with a very long 
face. " Look here, gentlemen," he said, 
" I'm afraid you've committed a very serious 
blunder. You've made a precious bad mess of 
it. YouVe got yourselves into a scrape ; and, 
what's worse, you've got us into one also. 
You were a deal too smart with your sworn 
information. -We've made inquiries about 
this gentleman, and we find the account he 
gives of himself is perfectly correct. His 
name is Polperro ; he's a well-known art 
critic and collector of pictures, employed 
abroad by the National Gallery. He was 
formerly an official in the South Kensington 
Museum, and he's a C.B. and LL.D., very 
highly respected. You've made a sad mis- 
take, that's where it is : and you'll probably 
have to answer a charge of false imprisonment, 
in which I'm afraid you have also involved 
our own department." 

Charles gasped with horror. " You haven't 
let him out/' he cried, " on those absurd repre- 
sentations ? You haven't let him slip through 
your hands as you did that murderer fellow ? " 

" Let him slip through our hands ? " the 
inspector cried. " I only wish he would. 
There's no chance of that, unfortunately. 
He's in the court there, this moment, breath- 
ing out fire and slaughter against you both : 
and we're here to protect you if he should 
happen to fall upon you. He's been locked 
up all night on your mistaken affidavits, and, 
naturally enough, he's mad with anger." 

" If you haven't let him go, I'm satisfied," 

Digitized by O OOg I C 

Charles answered. " He's a fox for cunning. 
Where is he? Let me see him." 

We went into the court. There we saw our 
prisoner conversing amicably, in the most 
excited way, with the magistrate (who, it 
seems, w r as a personal friend of his) ; and 
Charles at once went up and spoke to them. 
Dr. Polperro turned round and glared at him 
through his pince-nez. 

" The only possible explanation of this 
person's extraordinary and incredible con- 
duct," he said, "is, that he must be mad — 
and his secretary equally so. He made my 
acquaintance, unasked, on a glass seat on 
the King's Road ; invited me to go on his 
coach to Lewes; volunteered to buy a valuable 
picture of me ; and then, at the last moment, 
unaccountably gave me in charge on this 
silly and preposterous trumped-up accusation. 
I demand a summons for false imprisonment." 

Suddenly, it began to dawn upon us that 
the tables were turned. By degrees it came 
out that we had made a mistake. Dr. 
Polperro was really the person he represented 
himself to be, and had been always. His 
picture, we found out, was the real Maria 
Vanrenen, and a genuine Rembrandt, which 
he had merely deposited for cleaning and 
restoring at the suspicious dealer's. Sir J. H. 
Tomlinson had been imposed upon and 
cheated by a cunning Dutchman ; his picture, 
though also an undoubted Rembrandt, was 
not the Maria, and was an inferior specimen 
in bad preservation. The authority we had 
consulted turned out to be an ignorant, self- 
sufficient quack. The Maria, moreover, was 
valued by other experts at no more than five 
or six thousand guineas. Charles wanted to 
cry off his bargain, but Dr. Polperro naturally 
wouldn't hear of it. The agreement was a 
legally binding instrument, and what passed 
in Charles's mind at the moment had nothing 
to do with the written contract. Our adver- 
sary only consented to forego the action for 
false imprisonment on condition that Charles 
inserted a printed apology in the Times, and 
paid him five hundred pounds compensation 
for damage to character. So that was the 
end of our well-planned attempt to arrest the 

Not quite the end, however ; for, of course, 
after this, the whole affair got by degrees into 
the papers. Dr. Polperro, who was a familiar 
person in literary and artistic society, as it 
turned out, brought an action against the 
so-called expert who had declared against the 
genuineness of his alleged Rembrandt, and 
convicted him of the grossest ignorance and 
misstatement Then paragraphs got about. 




The W$r!d showed us up in a sarcastic 
article; and Truths which has always been 
terribly severe upon Sir Charles and all the 
other South Africans, had a pungent set of 
verses on " High Art in Kimberley." By this 
means, as we suppose, the affair became known 
to Colonel Clay himself; for a week, or two 
later my brother in-law received a cheerful little 
note on scented paper from our persistent 
sharper. It was couched in these terms : — 

^Oh t you innocent infant ! 

M Bless your ingenuous little heart! And 
did it believe, then, it had positively caught 

And this in the so-called nineteenth century ! 
O samhi simplkitas / When again shall such 
infantile transparency be mine? When, ah, 
when ? But never mind, dear friend. Though 
you didn't catch me, we shall meet before 
long at some delightful Philippi. 

" Yours, with the profoundest respect and 

"Antonio Herrera. 
14 Otherwise Richard Peploe Brabazon. 1 ' 
Charles laid down the letter with a deep- 
drawn sigh, (1 Sey, my boy," he mused 
aloud, "no fortune on earth — not even mine 


the redoubtable colonel ? And had it ready 
a nice little pinch of salt to put upon his 
tail? And is it true its respected name is Sir 
Simple Simon? How heartily w T e have 
laughed, White Heather and 1^ at your neat 
little ruses ! It would pay you, by the way, 
to take White Heather into your house for 
six months to instruct you in the agreeable 
sport of amateur detectives. Your charming 
naivete quite moves our envy. So you actually 
imagined a man of my brains would con- 
descend to anything so flat and stale as the 
silly and threadbare Old Master deception ! 

Vol, juL*.-2T. 

— can go on standing it. These perpetual 
drains begin really to terrify me, I foresee 
the end. I shall die in a workhouse. What 
with the money he robs me of when he is 
Colonel Clay, and the money I waste upon 
him when he isn't Colonel Clay, the man is 
beginning to tell upon my nervous system. 
I shall withdraw altogether from this worry- 
ing life. I shall retire from a scheming and 
polluted world to some untainted spot in the 
fresh, pure mountains.'* 

*' You must mied rest and change," I said, 

11 H!wjer9# GfaflfflifittP tr y lhe T y roL " 

Some Wonders of the Microscope. 

By William G. FitzGerald 

SMALL instrument and a 
big subject The microscope, 
through which Nature has 
revealed some of her most 
stupendous secrets, is one of 
the necessaries of modern life. 
Where would the bacteriologist be without 
it? Or the analytical chemist? Or the 
Home Office expert in a criminal case ? Or 
the young man who wears spectacles and 
talks of dmomacex? The young man 
who wears spectacles and talks of diatomaceae 
is generally an amateur microscopist who 
can find Paradise in a Hampstead pond ; he 
is also a nuisance, filling the house with 
nasty, horrid things, including human 
remains and vermin with big names. 
And yet it is a mistake to suppose that 
microscopists are devoid of humour. One 
glance at the crest and coat-of-arms here 
shown (No. i) should dispel such an idea. 
Notice the " microscope ram- 
pant " ; the structure of the 
human eye, the prisms, the Des- 
mids, Fungi, Acineta, Stentor 
Rotifer, Brachionus, Lemna, and 
Diatoms — all in the quarter! ngs. 
And the important-looking "sup- 
porters^ — two common Entomo- 
stracans, with nice names; 
Daplinia on the left and Sida 
on the right This was specially 
designed by a member of the 
Quekett Microscopical Club, for 
reproduction in one of the annual 
reports at a banquet of that in- 
teresting body. 

I once attended a lecture on 
the microscope; everything was 
microscopic — even the audience. 
The lecturer was a temperance 
gentleman, and the lantern slides 
were a little startling — mainly 
enlarged photo - micrographs. 
Presently part of a drunkard's 
Hver was thrown upon the screen, 
as an "awful example," but it 
was evident that little attention 
was being paid. One man said it 
was a map of South Africa ; he 
knew South Africa well, his uncle 
having got five years for diamond 
stealing at Kimberley. Wonder- 
ful, indeed, are the lessons taught 
through the t( golden tube ! " 

The accompanying microscopic photograph 
(No. 2) is of especial interest at this season. 
It depicts a section of the human skin, the 
various "layers" being plainly visible. But 
observe the seven little corkscrew spirals 
beneath the outer coating ; these are the 
perspiration ducts, through whose agency we 
are compelled to mop our moist brows during 
the summer months. This particular speci- 
men was obtained from the hand of a hospital 

The apparatus for taking these photographs 
is rather elaborate and very costly. It con- 
sists of a lamp, a microscope, and a 
camera, arranged horizontally. The object, 
usually indistinguishable to the naked eye, 
is first placed on the stage of the micro- 
scope, and receives the light through a 
condensing lens, Isochromatic plates are 
used, the exposure given lasting from one 
to two minutes. The principle seems 

Crest : — A Microscope rampant 

Supporters: — Daplinia pulex and SidacrystaUma, 

Motto: — Be minimis non curat lex. 

AKKUAU 1HNNER ^JM^T^f ^^Ht^N^ 11 - 




simple enough— the reception of the image 
by the microscope and photographic plate 
instead of by one's own eye. These 
photos are utilized in many ways, not the 
least interesting being their production in 
courts of law. Quite recently a photo-micro- 
graph practically decided an incandescent 
light case, the dispute hinging on the material 
of certain u mantles " unknown to drapers. 

Now fancy this awful-looking thing (No. 3) 
being laid lightly on your face at all hours of 
the day \ It is the leg and foot of a fly —of 

Nu. 3. — l-LVS KUOV. 

course, highly magnified and photographed. 
The common, or exasperating, house-fly cares 
as little for the laws of gravitation as it does 
for our personal comfort. Why is it able to 
walk nimbly up the window-panes, sleep on 
the ceiling, and select a bald-headed man out 
of a hundred ? These be big questions, and 

I don't think they've been settled yet Any- 
how, they are problems that don't interest 
the ordinary man, who is chiefly concerned 
with the total abolition of musm dewmtka. 
Notice the pair of pads between the hooks. 
It was at one time thought that these acted 
as suckers, but some truculent scientist got an 
air-pump and a few flies and demolished this 
theory. The hooks assist the insect in 
releasing itself from any point to which it 
may be adhering. It may seem strange, 
but it is nevertheless a fact, that a complete 
house-fly (we know the complete house- 
fly) distributed over a dozen microscopic 
slides would cost you fifteen shillings. 
Like most of us, the fly gets into trouble— 
and the spider's web. The latter, as you 
may see for yourself, is provided with nice 
little sticky globules, which render impotent 
the releasing hooks on the fly's foot 

NQ» 4- — Si'lLiElf'jri WiLK WITH STJCKif GUJBULEbk. 

(No. 4). One eminent authority has com- 
puted that in an ordinary web there are 
87,360 of these globules. This particular 
strand of a spider's web had to be drawn taut 
over a wooden cell before being photographed 
for this article. 

Next is shown the foot of a spider (No* 5), 
with its web-combing claws, hardly an nttr-r- 
tive spectacle for the 1^^^^^^^^^^^^ 
fly, you would think. 
The mounting of these 
microscopic objects is 
a wonderful business. 
Fancy having to dis- 
sect a flea, and place 
its various organs on 
different slides ! Of 
course, this work is 
done under the micro- 
scope ; the tool, in 
some cases, being a 
hedgehog's bristle. 
The mounters fre- 
quently breed their 
own insects, and 
attend hospitals and 
human anatomical specimens, Many people 
like to have microscopes and microscopic 

NO. 5.— shulks yoo I \ 


inquests to procure 



don't know the stage from the eye-piece of 
ihe instrument. You see f these things 
give the room an imposing appearance as 
the abode of a scientist The firm of Watson 
and Sons, of High Hoi born, keep a stock of 
40,00} microscopic specimens, and sell more 
than a thousand microscopes every year. 
You can buy an instrument for two or three 
pounds, or you can spend two or three 
hundred on one; the next thing is to get 
your set of objects. In these your tastes 
may be peculiar, inclining you to buy a 
chimney sweeper's lung for is. gd., or the 
swine fever bacillus for 4s. Tadpoles' tails, 
ostrich blood, whales' eyelashes, house- 
crickets' gizzards, whelks' palates — all these 
will be found competing for your favour in 
the catalogue. 

One of the last-named is next reproduced 
(No. 6) ; you will notice it resembles a patent 

NO. 6. — UHiiLkZs 1'ALATli. 

fire-escape. Without doubt the mounter is 
called upon to supply queer things, beside 
which the constituents in the witches' caldron 
dwindle into mere ordinary "stock" material. 
There are spiders' eyes* seals 5 whiskers, and 
human eyelids, showing the "crying machine*" 
Optic nerves, cats' lips, hornets' stings, rabbits' 
brains, elephants' corns, eruption dust from 
Vesuvius, parasites' eggs, the "wicious" eyes 
of the wasp, the blowfly's buzzing organ, and 
the breathing apparatus of a flea. 

Here are two wonderful pbato-mierographs 
from the vegetable world. The first (No. 7) 
shows the breathing pores on the surface of 
a leaf, and the second (No. 8), the stinging 


hairs on a nettle. By the way, the applica- 
tion of a solution of ammonia is the best 
remedy for nettle stings. As I have already 
said, the mounting of*microscopic objects is 
trying work* Mounted specimens range in 
price up to £5 each ; and llerr J, 1). M oiler, 
the great diatom man, once sold a slide for as 
much as ^80. It consisted of i,6qo separate 
diatoms arranged on the glass, the whole 
scarcely visible to the naked eye, Here is a 
fact to be noted. The ability of a microscope 
lens to show fine detail is not dependent 
on its magnifying power, but rather on the 
number of light-rays it is capable of receiving 
from the objective. So it comes about that 
a modern lens, giving a total magnification 
of 2,500 diameters — or 6,250,000 "times" 
—will show fine detail m proportion of 
136,000 lines to the inch. On the other 
hand t the famous microscope belonging to 
Ephraini Cutter, of New York, will only 
show 96,000 lines to the inch, although it 
magnifies 15,000 diameters, or 225,000,000 
times, being the most powerful microscope 
in the world in this respect 

One can't really form an idea of the fine- 
ness of the sting of a bee without comparing 
it with some familiar object. Most of us 
know what a No. 12 needle is ; some of us 


__ r ^ r ..... ^ ^ 




may have sat on one Well, here is the 
point of such a needle, side by side with the 
barbed tip of the bee's sting {No. 9) ; both 
are magnified equally. One wonders if Dr. 


na, 9. 

& STi kg coiKPAkttu with a ho, ts nf.kdlf„ 

Watts was ever stung, or if he ever used the 
microscope on the u harpoon " of the +i little 
busy bee," The man who is stung has no 
time to express amazement at the wonderful 
arrangement of the bees anatomy; probably 
he is busy with other expressions. 

But let us turn to the seaside. Here we 
see under the microscope a piece of chalk 
from the cliffs on the coast. It*s made up, 
you will notice a of little shells thereof a 
million might easily be put in a lady's 
thimble (No. 10), 

An ordinary flea is furnished with a pair 
of very sharp lancets, which are shown in 
the next picture (No, 11), and with which 


the flea makes incisions in the skin of 
its victim. In passing* one may notice 
the peculiar development of the flea's 
legs, whereby the insect is enabled to bound 
from place Ln place. If we were endowed 
with proportionately the same muscular 
power, it would be an easy matter for us to 
clear St. Paul's Cathedral in one jump. The 
lancets are the two serrated, sword-like spikes, 
and they are magnified ninety diameters in 
the photograph. 

It is said that negroes regard the flea's 
attention with comparative indifference. 






Howbeit, the accompanying photograph shows 
a section of the skin of a " cullud genTmnn," 
pigment cells and all complete (No. 12}. At 
the same time you would think our black 
friend would need all his callousness to 
withstand the touch of a mor with an edge 
like that one here shown {No. 13), And 
yet we selected for treatment a decent 
barber's razor ; of course w<j didn't show 
him this, lest he should bring a libel action 
against us. 

Diatoms are perpetually being examined 
by microscopists, amateurs and otherwise. 
They are aquatic in origin, and consist 
of two almost indestructible flinty shells, 
inclosing an organic vegetable substance. 
The shells are held together by connecting 
girdles. After a brief life, the organisms die, 
and the shells (known to the microscopist as 
"valves" or S( frustules ") fall to the bottom 
of the water. The city of Richmond, in 
Virginia, is built on a great stratum of 
diatoms, iSft. thick, and the paving stones of 
our own Royal Exchange are largely com- 
posed of them. The little band of pure 

flint which binds together the twin 
Valves of every circular diatom is a 
true ring, so absolutely flawless that 
a magnifying power which would ex- 
tend a postage stamp to a square 
mile would fail to reveal even the 
most trivial deviation from a fidelity 
of curve, mathematically perfect. 
That's how Nature does her work. 

Diatoms vary in size from the 
i-6oth to the 1-2 50th of an inch at the 
widest part. One, cdWzti Amphipkitm 
pellucida^ shown in the accompany- 
ing photograph (No. 14), measures 
1-2 50th of an inch in length, and ranks as 
a test object for microscopes ; the fine lines 
in it are about the 1 -90.000th of an inch 
apart* This photograph represents the pons 
asinorum of the microscopist — and, indeed t 
of the microscope also, This is because the 
very highest magnifying powers are required 
to render visible these amazingly fine lines. 
The best of apparatus and the most skilful 
manipulation are, of course, also indispensable. 
But it is when one comes to consider micro- 
scopic writing, or engraving, that one is im- 
pressed by the wonders of this instrument 
Some years ago a man ruled on glass, with a 
diamond, lines that wure the 1 -120,000th of 
an inch apart. The prices of these engravings 
vary according to the minuteness of the 
writing, ' Look at the Lord's Prayer, whereof 
a photo-micrograph is here reproduced (No. 
15), The original is so small {it occupies the 

cowu>r *£FAy,r umJJL £e o£ff>i-tf **n- 
%4A*& 444 fjfLt* tzU&ys &u/& o£pu£ty 

NO. 14.— DIATOM, SHOWING ^0,000 M N *-S TO T»K [NC 


NO. 15- — fMtJTtJ-lllCHCKlKAI'H OK THE [,OKi: S I'KAVJLK. 

(The original occupies only the i-3iB,oooth jxm of an inch.) 

w-jiSjOOothpart of an inch) that, according to 
the same proportion, the whole of the English 
Bible and Testament could be written twenty 
times in the space of one square inch. Just 
consider what this means ; the entire Bible 
contains 3,56^480 letters, A "ten-Bible" 
Lords Prayer, written on .glass, would now 

cost ^ftf^tfSJfflfo^ ■**■ ** 



your money being an exceedingly minute 

After this, the next microscopic curiosities 
seem rather tame, Here is seen a vase of 
flowers built up with infinite skill and patience 
by the mounter, who only used in his " pic- 
ture " the scales and hairs from the wings and 
bodies of various butterflies, moths, and other 
insects (No, 16), Altogether 1,352 particles 


had to be placed in position separately, yet you 
can hardly see the whole without the aid of a 
microscope — under which, of course, the 
design was executed. The original of this is 
a microscopic treasure, and treasures are 
"skeers and dear," as Mark Twain's aunt 

remarked about the buckwheat cakes in a 
bad season. 

Most microseopists are enthusiasts. Look 
at John Quekett, who, when only sixteen years 
old, gave a course of lectures on the micro- 
scope> his instrument being a home-made one, 
constructed from some pieces of brass bought 
at a rag-shop, a common r oa sting- jack , and an 
old-fashioned parasol ! The ordinary amateur 
is for ever on the look-out for new subjects 
in general, or he may confine himself to one 
species ; he may, for example, become a 
" diatomaniac." He is almost certain to upset 
people who like a piece of ripe Stilton, by 
producing microscopic photos of the ap- 




parently gigantic insects thnt inhabit that 
cheese, By the way, even mites have 
their likes and dislikes. For instance, 
this mite {No. 17} is like the flawless 
hero — never found out of books. He 
seems to be a studious mite a book- 
worm in fact (his full title is Cheiktus 
Emdittts\ and his greatest enemy is the 

Here is 
another in- 
tere sting 
It shows part 
of the human 
scalp with the 
hairs grow- 
ing; the roots 
of hairs that 
have not yet 


• !• 

j-— •_ 


P HAIttS rfcoM 



top are also visible (No. 18). Next come 
four hairs from the whiskers of a lioness. 
You are looking vertically down on to 
these latter, and the tops of the hairs were 
cut off to give a better result in the photo- 
graph (No* 19). 

, m * 

r t * 
* <f 

m m 
r w 

*• m 

rm'm* * 

* # * a * 

r w 



m m n m - » 
ft a* <* -J 

ft* # * * tf 

J! H 

m m m # 

* 4 

■^ * ^ • 


m m+s 



W 9 

n r «im i" * 


» «■ * ii * 

S+* ^L 

.\a 2CI, — THK FINEST h HUNCH iAM^iC. 

Under a powerful microscope, even the 
most delicate specimen of human workman- 
ship looks astonishingly Look at this 
photograph (No. 20)- The fabric shown is 
not a rough Harris or Sutherland tweed, such 
as shooting suits are made of, but a piece of 
the most exquisitely fine French cambric, 
which cost twenty shillings a yard. 

The various microscopical societies through- 
out the world are in no danger of a famine in 
subjects — or objects, Swift told us that 
11 great fleas have little fleas upon their backs 

NU. 21.— iiUNIl FLEA OF A MOLK. 

to bite 'em"; and then, again, "little fleas 
have lesser fleas, and so ad infinitum* Here 
is an extraordinary example of what I might 
call the physiological sympathy which the 
parasite has for its " host." The mole, as 
we all know, is not remarkable for keenness 
of vision, and it has a special kind of flea 
all to itself Well, that flea is also blind, 
although you wouldn't think so on looking at 
the photograph (No. 2 1 ). 

It may he some satisfaction to the victims 
of the ordinary house-fly to know that that 

provoking insect is in turn preyed upon by 
these little parasites (No, 22); whether these, 
too, " have lesser fleas " I can't say — probably 
they have. At any rate, the beetle has its 
parasite, with lancets 700 times finer than a 
human hair; and an exceedingly minute flea 
has been found upon the flea of a hedgehog. 
The eye of a water-beetle is made up of 
many facets; there are about 24,000 of them 
in the two eyes of a dragon-fly. Each of 
these facets acts as a lens to convey to the 
insect's brain some small portion of the object 




that is being looked at ; at the same time, 
I want to illustrate a peculiar phenomenon 
in connection with these facets. If an image 
be placed between a luminant body and one 
of these sets of lenses, that image will be 
represented entirely in each individual facet. 
A really wonderful microscopic photograph 
has been specially taken to illustrate this {No, 
23), It shows a portrait in every facet of 
the beetle's eye. The eye was first of all 
dissected and placed on the stage of the 
instrument The portrait — on glass and, of 
course, exceedingly small — was then inter- 
posed and the photograph taken through the 



The Storming of the Fort. 

By Walter Wood. 

ORDON'S OWN were under 
canvas, and from the lines all 
men could see the gloomy fort 
which was to be stormed and 
captured. The fort lay in a 
little hollow at the foot of the 
lowering hills, looking like a prison to which 
men might be sent who were cut off from 
the world for evermore. It was 90yds. 
square, with walls 8ft. thick, and 20ft high, 
and at each of the four corners was a tower 
which rose 20ft. above the wall. Three sides 
were flanked by hills, and one only was open 
to the plain, and in that the single gate of the 
furt was placed. The flat roofs of the huts 
shone dully in the burning sunshine, and the 
towers rose heavenward, like silent sentinels. 
Within the massive walls there was no mark 
of life ; the place was as dormant as a city of 
the dead. But swarthy men stood, grim and 
patient, in the watch-towers, waiting for their 
prey to deliver itself up to them. Their eyes 
glowed as they swept the plain where Gordon's 
Own were quartered, and a grating sound 
arose as they slowly changed their arms 
from one hand to the other. The banner of 
the Prophet drooped from a flagstaff on the 
tallest tower, and the hillmen looked from 
that to the camp and from the camp to the 
flag again. They could see the sentries of 
Gordon's Own, and looked at them with 
lazy curiosity. 

A private of gigantic stature was on sentry 
nearest the fort, and he stopped on his 
pendulum-like march to gaze for a moment 
at it. His form was boldly outlined, 
and a knot of tribesmen in an outer tower 
watched him with savage admiration. 
But the thirst for blood was strong within 
them, and one man raised his awkward 
weapon and thrust the barrel gently through 
a loophole. The sentry stood there like a 
statue. He was looking dreamily at the fort, 
and wondering about his own home in the 
hills across the sea, in more generous climes 
than these. He saw a puff of smoke and 
a tiny fork of flame from one of the towers, 
and before he guessed its meaning he felt a 
sharp pang in his shoulder, and staggered 
back a pace or two. The wound was slight, 

Vol. xiL-28. 

Digitized by ^OOgle 

and the sentry had no wish to call attention 
to it. He was within range of the fort, and 
might go down at any moment ; but that was 
a concern of his commanding officer. If he 
saw fit to alter things, it was well ; if he did 
not, it was still well. The officer commanding 
could do no wrong. 

The sergeant of the guard had seen the 
puff of smoke, and he hastened up to the 
sentry. The man was plugging the wound 
with a finger and was telling, in audible tones, 
what he thought of the hillmen and where 
he wished they were. " And I'd have it 
specially hot for 'em, too," he added, as he 
saw the sergeant. 

The sergeant laughed. "Well, you'll be 
able to fire up a bit when we storm the place 
to-night," he said ; " that is, if you're not too 
much hurt." 

" Hurt," said the sentry, scornfully, " hurt 
by an old slug-slinger like yond ? I'd scorn 
to think it. I'm as fit as may be, and don't 
even want relieving." 

" Two inches lower down," said the 
sergeant, eyeing the wound critically, " and it 
would have plumped through your heart." 

"But for an accident of birth I might 
have been King of England," answered the 

" That's so," said the sergeant; "all the 
same, you'll get relieved, and take a walk 
round and see the doctor. If you hadn't 
such a thundering big carcass you wouldn't 
be such a good target. That sort of thing 
reconciles one to being rather small of 

The sentry was relieved, there were no 
more shots, and night came down from the 
hills. No man went to rest in camp, but the 
soldiers in the fort, secure in the strength of 
their retreat, lay down to sleep with their 
arms beside thein. Their minds were at 
rest, for a certain priest had given them his 
blessing and said, "The sons of pigs who are 
in the plains are few in number, and their 
fate is sealed. To-night they will try to rush 
the fort, but fear not, for the walls are thick 
and the gates are strong, and their bones will 
bleach in the wind and rain." He had given 
them his blessing and had gone farther up 

■■-■I I '-| 1 1 I u I \\\ 




the hills, mistrusting greatly his own 

The colonel and his second in command 
walked forth from the lines as the day gave 
place to night, and the two looked long and 
earnestly at the fort 



" You'll find, 1 ' said the senior major, '* that 
the place is too strong for us, and that it 
can't be done. 1 ' 

''Can't !>e done !" exclaimed the colonel 
11 Can't be done ! Why, if the odds were ten 
times as big as they are, I'd undertake the 
risk — and win, too* Can't be done ! 
There's no such word as ' can't* for Gordon's 

"I'm not saying it won't be attempted," 
said the senior major, sadly. 4 * God knows 
I'd be the last to do so. The order's come, 
and we've got to go. You know what I 
mean, Stevens — well talk as friends now, and 
not as chief and second. When I say * can't,' 
I only mean that what happened to Charley 
will happen again, and perhaps cause to others 
just the bitterness it caused to me. Some- 
one bungled then, and someone has bungled 
now ; but that doesn't mend matters." 

" Someone blundered at Balaclava," said 
the colonel, " but think of the glory of it" 
The major smiled wearily, 
" The glory part of the profession never 
appealed much to me," he said, "and now 
that I'm getting somewhat into the sere and 
yellow leaf it doesn't offer any new 
charms. Charley used to talk of glory 
— and what was the end of it ? " 

" I admit that that little affair in 
the hills was a bad business," said 
the colonel, uneasily; "but you know, 
Ray I ton, it wasn't done on purpose." 

" The result was just the same," 
said Ray) ton, grimly. "If a father's 
curses could have withered the life of 
the man who was responsible for that 
day's sorry work, he would have gone 
the way of all flesh long ago." 

" You know what the chaplain said 
on Sunday about forgive and forget," 
said the colonel, but rather lamely, for 
he had no great faith in sermons. 

" The first I did long ago," replied 
the major ; " but the second — not if 
I lived till the crack of doom. And 
if you had had a son of yours sent 
on to death as Charley was sent, you'd 
think as I think now." 

"The lad was mentioned in des- 
patches," said the colonel, u and his 
bravery was officially recorded in the 
Gazette: 1 

The major smiled again, but grimly 
this time. "And when his mother saw 
it — what then ? " he asked. 

"It was the suddenness of the 
shock," replied the colonel, "and 
the state of her heart. You know, 
a shock like that often kills." 

" I lost Charley out here, and my wife at 
home, in one week, all through the bungling 
and incompetence of a general officer com- 
manding," said Raylton, "and yet you talk 
to me of glory. I remember how every one 
of the small force was butchered, and you 
remember just as welL Never a soul survived, 
and yet when you are ordered to do the 
same sort of thing you scoff at the notion 
of its impossibility, and refuse to hear of 
such a word as * can't.'" 

" I do, and I say again 
exclaimed the colonel. 
Gordon's Own the word 
been recognised ; you know that it's one of 
the traditions of the regiment that the word 
is barred. As for Charley and that miserable 
business in the hills, you cannot know how 
sorry and sore I've been about it. Why, 


what I said then," 
u By the men of 
* can't * has never 



Raylton, only one man on earth suffered more 
than I did t and that was yourself. Come, 
come; the worst was bad enough, without 
adding to it. Remember that, and give me 
your support now, when I need it more than 
ever before* If you fail me f Raylton, where 
am I to look for guidance and assistance ? 
Forget the past, and help me to make the 
present such that people will hold it in 
eternal remembrance. Think of the records 
of Ours, and what it would mean to have this 
achievement added to them ! Why, there 
would be nothing to surpass it in our 
annals ! " 

The colonel was a man of enthusiastic 
temperament, and had a way of communi- 
cating his enthusiasm to others. The major 
was a cold man at best, the soldier of a 
system, with but meagre receptivity for what 
he called the bunkum of glory ; but the fire 
of his chief and comrade was thawing him. 
The sternness of his face relaxed, and he felt 
a tingling sensation as the blood coursed 
faster through him. 

rt Kismet! " he said, at last, 
" What will be will be, I crave 
the post of greatest danger. If the 
worst comes to the worst, why, 
what's the end of it ? — the sooner 
to be with her and Charley," 

The colonel watched him as 
he strode away. " That's the 
spirit for a forlorn hope. If I 
were certain that it would fill 
every officer and man of the bat- 
talion," he mused, "I'd storm the 
gates of the Inferno itself* But 
I'm not, in spite of what I said 
to Raylton, for half the men are 
fresh from home and the other 
half are untried. In twelve 
hours we shall know the worst, 
and know what stuff the men 
are really made of." 

When the colonel got back to 
the lines he found that all was 
ready for the assault. A captain 
and half his company had fallen 
in, and the pioneers with the 
powder-bags and their picks and 
spades were in front. The 
captain's instructions were clear 
and simple, for the colonel was 
a man of few words. He was to 
advance noiselessly to the gates, 
and, having laid his powder- bags, 
was to blow them up. The 
explosion was to be the signal 
for the general assault 

The party marched off, and the colonel 
moved the battalion nearer to the fort, so 
that his men should be ready to rush the 
entrance as soon as the gates were blown 

The explosion came at last. There was a 
blinding flash and a dull roar, followed by 
shouts of startled men within the fort. The 
battalion dashed up to the gates, with 
bayonets fixed, but only to meet the captain 
and his party falling back. 

The powder had been exploded, but the 
bags had been poorly laid in the darkness, 
and the gates were still standing. 

"Never mind," shouted the colonel, "well 
make the assault, all the same. The gates 
are bound to be weakened, and we can knock 
them in with spades and axes, Come on, 
Gordon's Own, remember Ghuznee ! " 

The men who heard him rallied, but those 
who did not and they were most in number, 
remained where they were, sullen and im- 
movable in the darkness. The front of the 
battalion got to the gates again, and there 

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Original from 



was a hammering sound of axe and spade. 
But the gates were stout and strongly barred, 
and the soldiers within the walls were firing 
smartly, with heavy loss to the assailants, and 
never a casualty to themselves. 

Who really gave the cue for it no one could 
tell, but someone shouted that it was no good 
standing there to be shot down like sheep, 
and as everyone seemed to be of his way of 
thinking, there was a general and disorderly 

Men ran helter-skelter back to the lines, 
where shame overcame them, and they formed 
up— not quite as steadily as on parade, but 
as well as could be expected, seeing that the 
legs of half of them felt as if they had plenty 
of running power still left, and would like to 
find an outlet for it. 

Day had broken when the battalion had 
formed up, and in the weird and uncertain 
light the men began to look uneasily and 
distrustfully at each other. Each would have 
liked to ask the other what had possessed 
him to fly, but as each was quite well able to 
answer the question, it was not put. The 
light grew stronger, and when the day had 
completely broken the battalion, thinking for 
the moment as an entire being, began to wish 
that things had been otherwise— that 
it had not, for instance, fallen back 
in such unseemly haste ; and par- 
ticularly to wish that the colonel did 
not look so unholy as he strode to 
the front and made os if he would 
address them. 

The spirit of (< I told you so ! " 
possessed the major for the moment, 
and he could not keep from n mind- 
ing the colonel of the talk they had 
had, "It's scarcely worth mention- 
ing," he said, as he stood beside 
his chief, for no officer was mounted, 
"but 1 ventured to remark that it 
couldn't be done/' 

" And 1 ventured to reply/* 
returned the colonel, hotly, " that 
it not only could be done, but 
should be done. We've fallen back 
for the time being, but we shall 
storm the fort again, and III either 
take it or lose every officer and man 
in the battalion," 

** In the teeth of language like 
that," said the major, warmly, " I 
should be more than coward to say 
another word to turn you from your 
purpose I'm with you to the death, 
and by way of showing it, I propose 
to volunteer to place some more bags 

of powder against the gates and blow an 
opening through them, If I can't get any 
men to do it, I'll run the risk alone," 

* ( I'll ask for twenty volunteers for you," 
said the colonel ; " but first of all Tve some- 
thing to say to the battalion." 

The colonel was not a pleasant sight to 
see. He had been shot in the shoulder, and 
the blood had thickened on his Khaki jacket 
One of his own men, in the confusion of the 
retreat, had stuck his bayonet into his 
helmet, and had cut through it and on to the 
colonels brow, where the marks showed red 
and fresh. His face was hlackened with the 
battle-smoke, and his eyes glowed in their 

There was dead silence as the chief faced 
his battalion, and it was broken only by his 
angry voice. 

"Gordon^ Own," he began, u what can I 
say to you ? I don't know ; words won't 
come, the words I ought to utter I daren't." 

The men shuffled uneasily, and the officers 
kept their eyes on the ground. 

"And yet," exclaimed the colonel, fiercely, 
4t why should I spare you ? My feelings are 
nothing to you ; why should your's concern 
me ? What you are you know as well as I 




Original from 



do — you are cowards, poltroons ; dogs who 
turn tail and fly from the enemy, and whose 
blood turns to water at the,, sight of the 
sword and the smell of powder ! 71 

There was more shuffling in the ranks, and 
the colonel heard low growls of disapproval 
The officers lifted their eyes from the ground, 
and looked defiantly at their leader* His 
language could he justified to some extent, 
but there was a limit to what even he might 
say. Not a sign escaped the coloneFs eyes, 
not a sound was made that did not reach his 
ears. He began to feel his battalion, and 
to know that at last all was well- He tried 
another sentence, and was then sure of his 
ground. " I wish/ 1 he said, u that God had 
spared me the shame of seeing this night's 
work. Is there one of you man enough to 
say ' Amen * to that ? n 

The soldiers found their tongues at last, 
and there was one loud answer, "Yes," 

The colonel took out his watch and held 
it in his hand. "One minute's gone," he 
said, after a pause. 

No man stirred. **A minute and three- 
quarters," said the colonel Still no man 
moved. u Only five seconds left/' he said ; 
but the ranks remained unbroken. 

"Time's up," said the colonel, replacing 
his watch. "And you've proved yourselves 
men." He had meditated saying that the 
chance for withdrawing had passed, and that 
the sergeants were to shoot any man who 
tried to run away, and that the officers were 
to shoot any sergeants who did the same : 
as for the officers, he would keep an eye on 
them. But he knew that further threats 
or condemnations were not needful, and he 
went on : u There never was a simpler and 
easier bit of work than this. Major Raylton 
wants twenty volunteers." 

The battalion stepped forward like one 

m i 

* ( Is there one man among you who wants 
to fall out — who feels as if he couldn't storm 
the place again?" asked the colonel, "If 
so, there's plenty of room at the rear." He 
uttered the last sentence in tones of withering 
contempt, and it galled his hearers to the 
quick. There was a savage shout of " No/' 

" I give you two minutes to think it over,* 5 
said the colonel, "and if any man's heart is 
faint, let him fall out This isn't the place for 
his sort" 

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man ? took two paces to the front and halted. 
The whole movement was done without a 
word of command, and the colonel's heart 
was glad. "Thank God," he said, "for that 
spontaneous advance. Major Raylton will 
choose his men. The work is as easy and 
simple as marching past All we have to do 
is to wait for the explosion, then rush the 
gates once more, and the fort is ours. You 
hear what the niggers are playing on their 
tom-toms and howling? It's their song of 
Original from 






victory, and they're thumping and shrieking 
it because they think they've licked us. 
We've got to change their music for them, 
and we'll do it. When we're within a hundred 
yards of the gates, the bugles and the drums 
will strike up something like that infernal 

by Google 

air ; and, lads, well beat 'em to their own 
confounded tune ! " 

After that not even the colonel could have 

kept them hack. The major ami his little 

band stole oflf, and marched under a heavy 

fire to the gates. There was dead silence in 

Original from 




the ranks, as officers and men waited for the 
flash of the powder and the boom of the 

It came at last There was another great 
blaze, and another deep, loud roar as the 
powder was exploded. The flames died 
away, but the sound of the explosion went 
rumbling over the plains and up the hills. 
It smote upon the ears of the prophetic 
priest, and he was glad that the spirit had 
moved him to go up higher. 

A shower of small stones and pieces of 
wood rained upon the ranks of Gordon's 
Own, but they hurt no man seriously. The 
voice of the colonel was heard once more, 
and the battalion dashed forward to the 
assault. The men went bodily and solidly 
towards the fire which the explosion had 
made. When a hundred yards from the 
fort, the buglers and the drummers 
obeyed the command which had been given 
to them, and with one great shout Gordon's 
Own swept towards the gates. There was 
not much music in the tune; but that 
was all the better for the bandsmen, for 
their state of mind and body was such 
as to make fine music impossible. They 
could thump the drums, however, and 
make the bugles blare, and this was the only 
sort of tune that could be made audible 
above the shouts of the fighters, the rattle of 
the hillmen's jezails, and the clank of steel. 
When the gates were reached, drums and 
bugles were thrown aside, and with cold steel 
only Gordon's Own swept through the open- 
ing into the fort 

Many a man went down before the fort 
was won, but Gordon's Own got in at last, 
and the banner of the Prophet was hauled 
down to make way for the hoisting of the 

Queen's Colour. The old torn sheet of silk 
went slowly up, and the chief of Gordon's 
Own was satisfied. 

The colonel was a man of method, and 
whtn he had got his prize he wished to know 
the cost. 

" What's the roll-call like ? " he asked. 

" It's dwindled sadly," answered the 
adjutant. " There's many a man lying under 
the walls of the fort who'll hear the ' Last 
Post ' no more." 

"They'll do something more than that," 
said the colonel, with a glow of enthusiasm ; 
" they'll hear the ' R<Jveill&"' 

" That's true, sir," said the adjutant, gravely. 
" I'd overlooked that for the moment. As 
for the roll-call : Major Raylton, Captain 
Hawkes, and Lieutenant Waite are among 
the killed." 

The colonel sighed. "God rest their 
souls — they were all good soldiers," he said. 

" Six N.CO.'s and seventy rank and file 
went down, too," proceeded the adjutant ; 
" and, not counting ourselves, there are half- 
a-dozen officers and a hundred men pretty 
badly wounded." 

The colonel drew himself proudly up. 
" That's a heavy and a sorry list in one way," 
he said, " but what will the general say, and 
what vill they say at home when they read 
of it ? " 

14 They'll be talking of it to-morrow," said 
the adjutant. "The newspapers will be full 
of it" 

" God grant that those who've gone will 
know about it, too,'' said the colonel. " Fall 
in the burial parties, and let both officers and 
men be laid to rest on the little hillock there. 
People shall know it henceforth as the Hill 
of Gordon's Own." 

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Original from 

Pastimes at Sea. 

By Framlev Steelcrgft, 

E all know the veteran traveller; 
some of us have been bored 
by h i m , H e k n o w s e v e ry t h i ng 
about every ship, and he calls 
the captain "Jack," "Torn," 
or "Jimmy," as the case may 
be. He is far more at home on board a 
liner than one of the company's own directors 
would be ; and he usually considers that he 
owes a duty to his fellow-passengers — poor, 
miserable) helpless creatures. This duty is 
to amuse and entertain all on board ; and 
without doubt the companies owe him a big 
debt of gratitude* 

Now, I am about to consider the sports 
and pastimes that are organized on board the 
superb steamers of the Union Line, which 
have transformed the voyage to the South 
African ports into a delightful pleasure cruise. 
Very little of this kind of thing is attempted 
on the ''ocean greyhounds'' that race to New 
York, simply because the voyage is not long 

In the first photo- we see the national 
game in full swing, thousands of miles from 
land. The pitch is covered with cocoa-nut 
matting by the quarter-masters, and nets 
are stretched at the side so as to prevent 
the ball from going overboard, where the 
only fielders are sharks, and things of 
that kind. Of course, the stumps arc not 
driven into the deck; they fit into a specially- 
made, weighted block of wood. It doesn't 
require much physical exertion to score a 
boundary hit ; and when the great liner 
lurches, the traditional uncertainty of the game 
is made abundantly mnnifest — only in a way 
that even " W. G:" 
never dreamt of, 
notwithstanding his 
vast experience. 
Perhaps the over- 
vigilant wicket- 
keeper will get a 
stray track on the 
head from the bat ; 
or he may receive 
the ball (of twisted 
rope) in his eye, 
owing to the un- 
avoidably erratic 
bowling. During 
the progress of a 
ladies 1 match on the 
Scot) recently, the 
bats woman crashed 
backwards on to the 

wicket-keeper, a mild, elderly person, who 
thought she had secured a sporting sine- 
cure* No wonder the poor old lady, on 
landing at Madeira next morning, fervently 
exclaimed, " Thank Heaven, I'm on Urra 
cotta I * 

For the most part, however, cricket on a 
Union liner is a quiet pastime which serves 
to kill time while the great twin screws, far 
away astern, arc carving out the destination 
of the ship. The following matches are 
usually announced on the posters in the 
saloon ; u Passengers v. Officers" ; M Married 
v. Single " ; H Ladies v. Gentlemen. 1 ' 

It has become a truism that a great ocean 
liner is a little world in itself, its human 
freight consisting, perhaps, of a thousand 
souls— literally, all sorts and conditions of 
men. Hence it is that when the energetic 
entertainment committee of a Union liner 
sets to work, a programme of amazing 
excellence is almost invariably drawn up. 

Let us now consider the athletic sports 
that are got up on those Cape cracks, Norman 
and ScoL First place must certainly be 
given to the obstacle race, by reason of the 
vast amount of fun it affords. The very 
appliances ate marvels of ingenuity. In the 
accompanying photo, we see the competitors 
scrambling through some life-belts, which, 
hung as they are, require a lot of getting 
through, particularly when the great ship is 
in a heavy sea-way. Observe the different 
ways in which these " obstacles " are nego- 

Here is another tough ish obstacle — a high 
net, which has to be surmounted somehow ; 

by K: 


-kNT r FvMKtt. 







this is perhaps 
the most difficult 
of all, but it is 
obvious that ob- 
stacle racers have 
to be men of 
mettle. This par- 
ticular photo, was 
taken on board a 
Castle liner. As 
the race wouldn't 
be complete with- 
out a water-jump, 
one is prepared in 
a highly ingenious 
fashion, as may be 
seen in the illus- 
tration. A sail, 
or tarpaulin, is 

very loosely stretched between two spars, and 
buckets of water poured into it until it is 
capable of giving the unwary competitor an 
unpleasant ducking. 
On the left you will 
notice that an approach 
to this obstacle has also 
been rigged up, but 
even this approach is 
of the nature of a 
switchback, only more 
so — very much more so* 
You would think that 
the three hardworking 
obstacle racers were 
trying to dive through 
the ship. They are 
not; they are merely 
trying to struggle 
through some sails that 
have been strapped 
down to the deck* Oh ! 
it's great fun, especially 

Vol. xii^-29. 

for the spectators, who cheer voci- 
ferously in order to spur on the 
barefoot heroes. You see, the inner 
side of each sail has been carefully 
and plentifully floured, so that the 
competitors emerge half-choked and 
in a highly interesting condition. 

It's wonderful how the great ones 
of this earth unbend on board ship. 
Irving will recite, Melba and the 
De Reszkes will sing. Selous gave 
his first lecture on the Union liner 
Spartan. Rhodes and Jameson have 
often opened the ball on the spacious 
deck of a Union liner ; millionaires 
may be seen panting in the tug-of- 
war (perhaps it 
reminds them of 
the mad struggle 
for concessions 
and gold) ; and 
dusky monarchs, 
from Cetewayo 
(who handed the 
captain of the 
Ami a testimonial 
in phonetic Kaffir) 
and Lo Ben right 
down to pious 
King Khama, 
have patiently 
posed in the 
tableaux and 

There is no 
more mirth 

voking pastime on the high seas than 



of cock-fighting, which is seen in progress in 

A twelve foot ring is 

the next reproduction. 






uii.vrAL.:i..K KAi.K CkAWLlNi; THROUGH Fl-t>L-RKn SAILS STkAL'J-KD TO Til].. lillCK 

chalked, or whitewashed, on the deck, and in 
this the squatting combatants take their places- 
The " birds " fight with their bare feet only, 
their hands clasping a broom-stick, which 
passes under the knees, and must not be 
relinquished on any account under pain of 
disqualification. In the photograph it will be 
noticed that one " cock " has been fairly 
knocked out of the ring by his opponent 

Equally funny to witness is " slinging the 
monkey," which is next shown on the deck 
of the Scot The legs of the " monkey "— 
usually a careful, methodical man — are first 
of all slung up by means of ropes and 
pulleys. Then the victim is given a piece 
of chalk (notice it in his hand), and 
with this he is 
expected to lean 
forward and write 
dictated love-letters 
on the ship's deck. 
Or he may be called 
upon to show his 
skill as an artisL 
At the same time, 
you can't expect 
fine technique and 
firmness of outline, 
considering the cir- 
cumstances; for 
one thing, the 
draughtsman hasn't 
a free hand* The 
knowing "monkey" 
will probably wait 
until the ship has 
lurched one way, 
then he will attempt 
a little lightning 

sketching before 
she has time to 
right herself. 
Occasionally it 
is not the chalk, 
but the artist's 
nose which 
scrapes the 
deck ; and at 
such times a 
man is apt to 
forget himself, 
though he can't 
forget his injury. 
In the photo- 
graph shown the 
Lord Bishop of 
Natal is seen 
watching the un- 
certain move- 
ments of the slung " monkey " ; the right 
reverend gentleman is wearing a cap, and 
he carries a book under his left arm 
Thus, in this case, it would have been 
peculiarly unseemly had the sorely -tried 
monkey given vent to his feelings in " swear 

But it would never do to let the teeming 
hundreds grow moody and sentimental. Just 
notice in the photo, the uproarious merri- 
ment prevailing among the occupants of the 
lower deck. One of the traditions of the 
Cape steamers is that, immediately after 
H crossing the line," Neptune himself comes 
on board, with grizzled beard and aggressive 
trident, to christen the unsophisticated 

^■JlJk t 





passengers. Accordingly, sails are prepared 
and filled with water for the accommodation 
of the water-god's victims. Some of these 
object to being thrown into the bath, but the 
majority take the thing in good part At all 
events, the whole affair affords opportunity 
for a lot of boisterous "larking." And woe 
to the cantankerous on board ship, particularly 

the third - class cantankerous. 
But talking of crossing the 
Equator reminds me that hoax- 
ing the untravellcd must be 
included in " pastimes at sea/ 1 
For example, a telescope is 
always prepared with a bit of 
thread across the object-glass, 
and through it many trustful 
passengers behold for the first 
time the mysterious " line." 

The next photo- was taken 
immediately after the hearing 
of a fiercely - contested cause 
celibre on the Union liner 
Spartan. The judge sacrificed 
his moustache to his temporary 
calling ; and his wig, as well as 
the wigs of the eminent "silks" 
around him, was made from 
cotton waste, supplied by the 
ship's engineers. There is a 
fine touch of legal pomposity 
about the young man with the 
brief ; but the amateur barristers behind 
wear their gowns more or less like Roman 

The case fought out between these legal 
luminaries was one of breach of promise ; 
notice the defendant sitting at his lordship's 
feet, and wearing a pensive air> as one who 
has parted with substantial damages. The 






speeches were very funny ; so was the cross- 
examination of the plaintiff, a lively little 
actress (one of the Gaiety Company )> on her 
way to the Johannesburg Empire. 

The court was kept in roars of laughter. 
At last defendant's counsel declared he 
should withdraw from the case. A number 
of motives actuated him in this step — infer- 
afia t the third engineer required his wig to 
clean the machinery. 

Theatricals, tableaux, and variety entertain- 
ments are much in 
vogue during the 
voyage to the Cape. I 
must remark here, how- 
ever, that nothing much 
is attempted in the way 
of sports and pastimes 
until after the vessel 
has left Madeira. By 
this time the victims of 
mal dt mcr are on deck 
once more, and there 
is a clear fortnight or 
so before Table Moun- 
tain comes in sight 
Passengers are some- 
times notified of a 
f or t h co m i ng entertain- 
ment by means of a 
long procession of 
announcement - bearing 
sandwich - men, who 
amble along the deck 
with the shamefaced 
air that characterizes 

the "real article" in the 

An amusing tableau 
is reproduced here. It 
shows Don Quixote, re- 
presented by a very 
well-known officer, 
tilting at an animated 
windmill, while a podgy 
Sancho Panza is im- 
ploring him to desist. 

Look at the tug-of- 
war — Passengers v. 
Crew. Of course, every- 
body can't be an athlete, 
and if a man would 
rather watch the flying- 
fish than the sports, 
he is left alone with 
Nature ; but Nature 
can be monotonous at 
sea. Moreover, there is 
something for all tastes* 
some daring spirit will 
newspaper, and it may 
know that these erratic 
prints occasionally get very distinguished 
contributors. The work of Mr. Henry 
Lucy and Mr Phil May has appeared in the 
"TantaJlon Chronicle," published on board 
the Tantallon Casfk; and Mr. Stuart Cumber- 
land edited the "Weekly Athenian" during 
the voyage of the Union ss. Athenian to 
South Africa, Of course, the facetious 


Now and then 
actually start a 
surprise you to 


editors announce that their 
journal has *' the largest 
circulation * — on board the 
ship. So steady are these 
magnificent vessels 3 by the 
way, that passengers by the 
Union Line have actually 
clamoured for a billiard 
table ; it hasn't come to 
that yet, however. At the 
same time, a very funny 
bicycle race has been 
attempted on the Norman 
— five or six laps to the 
mile* This will not surprise 
anyone who has strolled 
along the great promenade 
deck of that vessel, 


the Bishop of Natal is hold- 
ing the tape on the right- 
hand side of the photo. 
This race causes uproarious 
mirth, and the winner is, in 
all cases, a most sturdy 

The potato-race is, as the 
street toy -sellers say, "a 
novelty and likewise a 
cur'asiCy. 1 * A long row of 
equi - distant potatoes is 
placed for each starter, and 
at the end of each row is 
one of the ship's buckets. 
The moment the signal is 
given the competitors dash 
off, stooping to pick up the 
potatoes as they run. 
The one who first places 
all the potatoes in the 
bucket wins the prize. 
It is great fun, and 
causes wild hilarity. You 
will see one fellow plung- 
ing here and there pick- 
ing up the potatoes with 
feverish energy, and at 
length hurling his arm^ 
ful of slippery tubers 
into the buck e t — on 1 y , 
however, to be disquali- 
fied by the umpire for 
overlooking two or three 
" little \ins " in his head- 
long flight 

There is always a 
The keen interest taken in the various peculiar uncertainty about sports that take 
events is manifest in the above photo., which place on the high seas — particularly in the 
shows an excit- 
ing wheel- 
barrow race ; 
of course, the 
rolling of the 
ship adds very 
considerably to 
the gaiety of 
these sports, 
and at times 
the tape-holders 
are so overcome 
with merriment, 
as to be un- 
mindful of their 

The finish of 
the sack-race on 
board the Scot 
is next shown; 

w heel- bA n how k ac !■:. 






case of the ladies* egg-and-spoon race, which 
is shown in the next photo. The fair starters 
are placed in a row, and each is provided 
with an egg, which 
is to be carried in 
a spoon held at arm's 
length. The lady 
who reaches the 
winning - post first, 
with her egg intact, 
is declared the win- 
ner- Needless to say 
this race is not 
necessarily to the 
swift ; rather is it to 
the adroit and 
strategic* It is very 
funny to watch the 
competitors. One 
will hold the spoon 
low down, so that if 
the egg does fall out, 
it won't get broken; 
another will make a 
frantic dash, trusting 

place them 
requisite here- 

to luck and the ship's steadi- 
ness ; while a third will per- 
haps deposit the egg in some 
gentleman's lap, greatly to his 

Another mirth - provoking 
contest between the lady pas- 
sengers is the needle-threading 
race. The competitors first of 
all race to a certain part of the 
deck, where a number of 
needles of uniform size and 
some lengths of thread are 
held in waiting; then they 
thread the needles as fast as 
they can and hurry back to 
in the pin - cushion at the 
Patience, above all things, is 


Fancy dress balls are amaz- 
ingly popular on board the 
South African liners, the cos- 
tumes and properties being 
fashioned with much ingenuity, 
The group shown on the next 
page includes many members 
of a touring theatrical company, 

The next photo, reproduced 
depicts a baby show on board 
the Norman; the winner of 
the first prize occupies the place 
of honour in the centre. 

No form of diversion is more 

(Mgttffl f r6?n * liese enormous 

irVE^f^FTOtort 3 " than thq 


*3 X 


sweepstake on the daily run. Every morning 
the passengers nominate an auctioneer— 
usually the wittiest 
fellow on board — 
and this function- 
ary prepares a lot 
of tickets bearing 
numbers which are 
supposed to re- 
present the dis- 
tance {in knots) 
travelled by the 
vessel during the 
preceding twenty- 
four hours. These 
numbers are drawn 
for, and then follows 
the daily auction 
shown in the photo- 

done duty as auctioneer 

vast and superbly appointed ship, having the 

graph. The lucky 
buyer of the l£ c'rect 
card " reaps a rich 
harvest at noon 
when the captain 
gives the exact 
figures; 10 per 
cent, of his or her 
winnings, however, 
is given to either the 
National Lifeboat 
Institution or the 
Union Company's 
Widows' and 
Orphans' Fund. 
The spacious deck 
of the Norman is 
the scene of the 
illustration. Mr* 
" Barney " Barnato 
and many other pro- 
minent South 
African folk have 
Thus, what with a 



cuisine of a fashion- 
able club ; a captain 
who knows his high- 
way like a waggoner 
en route for Coven t 
Garden ; and exu- 
berant fellow - pas- 
sengers, who are as 
much at home as 
though they were on 
Epsom Downs, who 
shall fay that life is 
dull on board a 
modern ocean 



* *» Little 




Bv Hiss f.e.hynam 


STORK swept high over the 
Bohemian forest. It was a 
most important duty that had 
brought him from his own 
marshes into this mountainous 
region, where far and wide no 
croak of frog could be heard. In his beak 
he carried two little children, a boy and a 
girl, both intended for the knight who dwelt 
in the gloomy fortress below. Smaller and 
smaller grew the circles made by the stork in 
his Right. Lower and lower he sank towards 
the earth, until at length he rested on the 
highest chimney of the castle* 

But before letting the children slip down 
the narrow black hole he paused and looked 
carefully around. While in the air, this old 
castle, with its round turrets glittering in 
the rising sun, had appeared to him a most 
stately edifice. But now, when quite close t 
the stork discovered many things that did 
not please him. The walls were sadly out 
of repair, there were holes in the roof, whilst 
the courtyard was overgrown with weeds, 

"I do not like this," said the stork, looking 
thoughtfully down his long, red beak. " This 
place seems to have a very bad landlord. A 
knight who cannot keep his castle in proper 
repair certainly does not deserve two children. 
I will take one away with me* 

" Which should he have now, the boy or the 
girl ? " thought the stork. He looked once 
more thoughtfully down his long beak, and 
on the two children smiling happily in their 
dreams. " I think I will give him the boy," 
he said at length. " He will push his way in 

this wretched place better than the girL" 
With these words he made a movement to 
throw the little boy down the chimney. 

This, however, was not so easy as the stork 
had thought. In their sleep the little ones 
had embraced each other, and would not 
leave go. " I have never had two such 
obstinate little creatures in my beak before," 
exclaimed the stork, angrily. Then he 
began to shake them } at first gently, then 
harder, and at last so roughly that the 
children half awoke from their dreams, and 
looked at each other with blinking eyes. 
After this the boy would not leave go his 
companion, and no wonder, for the little girl 
had shown him a pair of blue eyes of such 
wondrous beauty, that there were not many 
like them in the world, But the stork, now 
thoroughly angry, gave the poor little fellow* a 
kick that sent him head first down the castle 

" Now, what shall I do with the other little 
thing ?" said the stork, thoughtfully, scratching 
the back of his ear. " Ah ! I have it," he 
cried — the little girl had kept on blinking her 
eyes, and the stork had also seen their beauti- 
ful blue — "I have it," he repeated, "Such 
eyes can only belong to Norway," 

High overhead soared the stork. Power- 
fully his wings clove the air as he sailed away 
towards the north. 

In the midst of the blue Baltic Sea a little 
wooded island lay sparkling like a green jewel. 
Here dwelt Bjorn, a grim old sea-king of 
Norwegian blood. Every year he and his 
men ploughed the sea with their swift ships, 
and very rich was the spoil he brought home 
to his str« ng castle that stood in the centre 




To this castle the stork bore the little 
maiden on his strong wings. 

Bjorn and his men were sitting in the 
spacious hall quaffing from golden cups the 
sweet wine they had brought back in their 
ships from the sunny land of Greece. Very 
wild was their joy when the little maiden 
came down the chimney, and throughout the 
whole night their boisterous songs could be 
heard far across the wide sea. 

And the little, sparkling waves sang in reply 
a rushing, mur- 
muring song, to 
celebrate the 
arrival of the 
young child. " To 
our sea-king a 
little daughter 
has been born," 
they sang. U A 
beauteous little 
maiden, with eyes 
blue as the sea, 
locks fair as the 
sea foam, and 
lips rosy as the 
morning red 
when it gilds the 
crests of the 
waves." Even 
the stupid fishes 
rejoiced, but as 
they could not 
sing they leapt 
into the air, high 
up out of the 
waves, and their 
scales glittered in 
the moonlight 
like gold and 

Many days and 
many nights 
Bjorn and his 
crew drank of 
the pearly wine* 
Then he could 
rest at home no 
longer, so ordered 
his ships and 
sailed away, leaving the child, to whom he 
had given the name of Swan hi Id) in charge 
of a faithful nurse. 

On this voyage Bjorn encountered more 
storms and enemies than he had ever done 
before- Often, whilst on the tossing billows, he 
thought with longing of the little one at home. 
Yet many long years passed ere he could at 
length return home laden with rich spoiL 

Vol. xiL^-30. 

As he set foot on the little island he was 
greeted by a beautiful maiden, with deep 
blue eyes, rosy lips, and the fair hair of 
Norway. Full of joy, Bjorn clasped his 
lovely child to his heart Then he sat with 
his men in the castle hall, feasting and 
quaffing the costly Grecian wine. 

Swanhild had never before seen such noisy 
feasts. Often, on moonlight nights, she 
would leave the castle and wander alone on 
the sea-shore. 

But one even- 
ing as she thus 
wandered, clad 
in her white gar- 
ments, and with 
her fair head 
bent towards the 
waves, she was 
seen by a wicked 
magician, who 
had flown thither 
through the air 
on a black goat 
He came from 
the cliffs of Nor- 
way, where he 
had been sent 
to seize the soul 
of a poor Lap- 
lander who had 
stolen his neigh- 
bour's reindeer, 
and he was now 
his master, a 
powerful evil 

When the 
magician saw 
Swanhild he was 
much delighted. 
He had never 
before beheld 
anyone so lovely. 
But, alas, while 
he was lost in 
contemplation of 
her beauty the soul of the little Laplander 
escaped, and flew away. He let it go. Seeking 
a secluded spot, he at once summoned a 
number of crabs and water- beetles, which he 
placed in three shining mussel-shells. One 
touch of his staff changed these shells filled 
with crabs and water-beetles into magnificent 
vessels full of well-armed men. His black goat 
became a skald, and played the harp. Then 


take this soul 




transforming himself into a handsome young 
Viking, he ordered the sails to be hoisted, 
and rounding a wooded promontory, sailed 
into the bay where Bjorn's vessel lay. 

Loudly the sentries on Bjorn's ship blew 
their horns. Louder yet rang out the 
answering blast from the castle. Wildly 
Bjorn and his men broke through the forest. 
Furious was their war-cry, shrilly clanged 
their weapons. 

The strange Viking 
stepped forward boldly, and 
extending his hand to Bjorn 
in token of friendship, 
besought hospitality for 
himself and his men, 

Bjorn let himself be 
persuaded. He led the 
strangers into his splendid 
halls j and drank and feasted 
with them many days and 
many nights. Then the 
strange hero ordered rich 
presents to be brought 
from his ships \ garments 
studded with gold, gold 
ornaments, and shining 
swords. This completely 
deceived Bjorn and his 
followers, and when the 
stranger asked for Swanhild 
in marriage the Viking 
readily gave his consent. 
That Swanhild turned pale 
no one heeded. Nor did 
they heed that she wept 
nightly in the solitude of 
her chamber, 

The marriage day at 
length arrived. But when 
everything was ready, and 
Swanhild, in glittering array, 
was being led towards the stranger, 
with a quick movement, turned her 
on him and fled to her chamber. 

Loudly raged the father, his eyes glowing 
with fury, But wilder still rolled the eyes of 
the stranger. He broke into a laugh, and 
cried, with mocking voice, lc You shall all 
pay for this." 

One look from those fierce eyes, and his 
men became a crowd of crabs and water- 
beetles. The skald threw away his harp, 
and stood there a black goat with fiery eyes. 
The stranger shook off his armour, and was 
a horrible old man. 

Bjorn grew pale with terror, his followers 
began to tremble and shake. Another look 
from the magician : they all shrank together, 

and a crawling mass of frogs covered the 
floor. Bjorn was the largest of them all 
Then opening door and gate, the magician 
drove them out into the marshy moat — here 
they dived. 

The magician then locked the door and 
threw the key into the moat At her 
chamber windows Swanhild sat weeping. He 
looked up at her furiously, but she was so 


A cjcah-lim; mass, or frcx;s covered the floq&. 


good and pure, his glance had no power over 
her. He shook his fist threateningly. 

" Now sit there all alone," he cried, "since 
you will not marry me. You cannot escape, 
and no one can deliver you, for my goat 
keeps guard/' 

He flew away whistling. The black goat 
walked round and round the moat, his eyes 
gleaming like living coals. The frogs croaked 
in the evening light, and above, in her 
chamber, Swanhild wept solitary and for- 

In the meantime, the boy left by the stork 
at the gloomy castle in the Bohemian forest 
had become a valiant knight, who knew well 
how to use his sword. Vet so strange a 
knight as he hid naver before sat in Walnut- 




tree Castle. This was the name of his 
ancestral home. 

Since his father's death Wulf had lived 
quite alone in the ruined castle, for none of 
the servants would stay after the old knight 
died. But this did not trouble Wulf. He 
did not care to hunt the wild boar through 
the thicket, or kill the frightened stag. His 
chief pleasure was to stretch himself on 
the thick, soft moss, and gaze through the 
green branches of the forest trees at the 
blue heavens that smiled here and there in 
little flocks through the thick foliage. He 
also loved to seek for forest flowers — the 
blue were his favourites. Whence this 
preference he knew not, but he dreamt he 
had once looked into Swanhild's blue eyes. 
Or, when tired of these things, he would 
stand at one of the castle windows, gazing 
thoughtfully out into the blue, distance. 
" Far away yonder," so ran his thoughts 
at these times, "where the blue heaven 
bends down to touch the earth, should I not 
find happiness there ? Were it not better to 
journey abroad in search of happiness than 
to remain alone in this solitary castle, through 
whose walls the wind whistles, whilst owls 
and bats are now the only occupants of its 
once stately halls ? " 

But though longing to go out into the 
world, Wulf remained in the ruined castle, 
in obedience to an old command of one of 
his ancestors. 

In the middle of the castle court there 
grew in the cleft of a rock a gigantic walnut 
tree. From it the castle had received its 
name. The nut from which this tree had 
sprung had been planted in olden times by 
one of Wulfs ancestors, who at the same 
time had carved these words on the rock : — 

Where flourishes this tree, there shall my house 

While it stands, forsake it not to search abroad for 

fame ; 
But should the ancient glory from these halls e'er 

Life from this tree shall make it shine once more quite 

bright and clear. 

Their splendour had long since disappeared, 
and how the tree could restore it Wulf could 
not imagine ; still, he remained obedient to 
the command. 

One evening a mighty storm arose. Black 
clouds obscured the sky. The lightning 
flashed ; the thunder rolled. The storm 
raged through the forest. The mouldering 
stones of the old castle slipped from their 
places, and the wind whistled through the 
gaps, and raged through the old rooms and 
passages. Then a flash of lightning ! a clap 

of thunder ! The castle was in ruins ! Wulf 
escaped into the open air ; before him lay the 
walnut tree, shivered by the lightning. 

He immediately saddled his horse. What 
need to remain here longer ? Hastily snatch- 
ing a few ripe nuts that lay among the 
shattered branches, he concealed them in his 
doublet as a remembrance, and then rode 
away through the gloomy forest 

Far and wide, Wulf wandered over the 
green earth beneath the blue heavens, en- 
countering many enemies. But in spite of 
all he kept courageously on his way. 

One day his path led through a thick 
forest of beech trees. He looked around 
thoughtfully as his horse scattered the fallen 
leaves at every step. Suddenly he looked 
up. What was it that shimmered so blue 
through the trees? Wulf urged his horse 
forward, but beneath a giant beech at the 
edge of the forest he halted ; the endless sea 
lay before him. 

- " Here is blue heaven above and beneath, 
surely I shall find happiness here ? " thought 
Wulf, as he swung himself to earth. Without 
a thought he left his horse, and hastened to 
the shore. On the soft waves a small bark 
was rocking. Wulf sprang in and loosed the 
chain. Lightly the waves bore the boat out 
into the blue distance. 

For a long time Wulf lay contentedly in 
the bottom of the boat. He felt as though 
he were a little child folded into his mother's 
arms, safe from all want and danger. And he 
thought the waves wished to tell him some- 
thing, but he could not understand their 
language. Yet he saw that they bore his 
bark ever more swiftly forward, and he 
rejoiced at the increasing speed. 

There was a grating sound under the keel : 
Wulf had reached land at last Before him 
lay a wooded island. Above the tops of the 
trees rose the turrets of a stately castle. He 
hastened forward and arrived at the castle 
moat. An unearthly stillness reigned over 
all around. Nothing moved save a swarm of 
frogs. These swam round and round in the 
moat, or sat on the leaves of the water-lilies, 
and croaked in what seemed to Wulf most 
sorrowful tones. But the largest amongst 
them behaved in a most extraordinary 
manner. He was for ever trying to climb 
up the castle wall, but if after much trouble 
he managed to get up a little way, he always 
fell back again. Then he would seat himself 
on a water-lily, look upwards, and wipe his 
eyes as though he were weeping. 

Wulf also looked up. 

" Happiness at last ! " he exclaimed. "The 


*3 6 


blue eyes ! " But he got no further. A 
violent push from an angry goat sent 
him flying into the middle of the moat 

Wulf felt himself sinking fast His 
feet got entangled among the twisted 
roots of the water-lilies. With great 
difficulty he managed to keep his head 
above the water. 

" And here I must die," said he, 
in anguish* 

Then from out his doublet sounded 
soft little voices : — 

The blessing of Urahn to you is near. 

Do not despair^ for help is present here, 

And behold I all around him now 
began a wonderful rustling and 
moving- He groped about with his 
hands, and felt that tender little roots 
had forced their way through his 
doublet and were taking root in the 
slime. And all around him he saw 
little green walnut-tree leaves rising 
out of the water. Twigs followed the 
leaves, and these again became 
branches. Wulf felt he was being 
forced upwards; soon he was safely out 
o f th e wa ten Looki ng u p, h e sa w S wan- 
hild's blue eyes. He stretched out his 
arms towards her and she smiled. 

Higher and higher Wulf was borne* 
Five strong walnut trees grew beneath 
him, and bore him up on their 
branches. Now he could reach up 
and touch Swanhild's hands. Now 
he sat by her at the window, and 
gazed into her blue eyes, 

" What is your name ? " he asked 

" Swanhild," she replied. 

11 It is a very beautiful name/ 5 said 
Wulf u But for my sake you must 
now be called Little Blue Flower. When I was 
quite a child I saw your eyes in my dreams. 
They appeared to me like little blue flowers, 
and every day I searched for these flowers in 
the forest, but they were never sufficiently 
beautiful Now you shall be my Little Blue 
Flower." And then he gave her a kiss. 

But now a fresh movement began in the 
moat below. The stout frog was able to 
scram hie up the crooked, rough stems of the 
walnut tree, better than up the smooth castle 
wall Boldly he climbed, and the whole 
army of frogs followed him. At length he 
reached the top. Swanhild gently laid her 
hand on his head, and instead of the frog 
old Bjorn sat on one of the branches of the 
walnut tree, and embraced and kissed both 
his daughter and Wulf Then the other frogs 
came, and Swanhild laid her hand on them 

"Kt^ju-^V <ft 


all. Soon all Bjorn 's followers were sitting in 
crowds on the branches, dangling their legs 
for joy. Full of anger, the black goat ran 
round and round the castle moat, rolling his 
great fiery eyes. 

Just as the last frog was changed, a mighty 
rushing noise was heard. The magician flew 
raging through the air. With his magic staff 
he struck the poor goat a fierce blow, and 
then rode back on him to Blocksberg. Here 
it went very badly with him, because he came 
without the soul of the little I-aplander, and 
he was severely punished, 

Bjorn, with W r ulf and all his men, joyfully 
entered the castle through Swanhild's window. 
A Tew days later Swanhild's marriage with 
Wulf was celebrated with great splendour, 
and they lived together in peace and happiness 
to the end of ehcii days. 




Here is a very interest- 
ing photograph, showing 
the entrance to an Ar- 
menian Church , situated 
in the Bit lis district. You 
will observe that the door 
is half- way up the wall, 
instead of being on the 
ground level- The Vali 
of Bitlis— a decent fellow, 
for a Turk — was once 
asked what was the 
reason for this architec- 
tural pecu lia rity . H is 
reply was significant *' If 
the entrance were on 
the ground level, the 
Kurds would come in force 
and drive their cattle into 
the building. The Kurdish 
chiefs think there's no 
stable like an Armenian 
church. ** When the devout 
congregation have success- 
fully negotiated the ladder, 
it is drawn up, and then 

A monument of patience and perseverance* It was a French peasant who 
constructed this cycle , using only wood for every single part. The very 
nails employed to fasten together the parts are of hard wood ; and although 
Coventry might ridicule the machine, it is interesting to learn that its 
ingenious maker frequently rides it to the market-town some miles away. 

the service proceeds with- 
out fear of mde interrup- 
tion. All things con- 
side red , it must lie a trifle 
wearying to attend service 
in one of these churches 
There are no seats, and 
the congregation are de- 
tained from live to seven 


This is an ordinary 
white glass wine bottle, 
of European manufacture, 
brought from Monghyr 
(Ur of the Chaldees). It 
is without a flaw, and on 
the inside an Ode of Hafii 
(a celebrated Persian poet 
of the fourteenth century) 
has been tieauti fully in- 
scribed by a Moham- 
medan, whose method of 
executing it no one has 
ever been able to dis- 




Shohvikg the Lokg Fimgek-Nails* 
It must be unpleasant to have 
finger ~ nails like these. As 
weapons, I hey are available for 
cutting, thrusting, or whipping. 
They are also a mark of high 
rank among the Amanese, for, 
plainly, folks decorated in this 
. way toil not, 
• neither do 
they spin. 
Thus the 
dandy in some 
parts of the 
Chinese Em- 
pire is not 
seen with 
a fool or mora 
in length* 

We are not told whether the individual blessed 
with an abundant supply of nail insures his ornaments ; 
at the same time be is careful to provide these 
dreadful- looking talons with sheaths or eases, such as 
those shown here. Scoffing Britons have offered a 
dollar a-picce for these extraordinary "featuies** — 
without the cases — but the Chinese have loftily scorned 
such offers \ nor would they part with what one 
horrified traveller calls "these loathsome excre- 
scences " for twenty times their weight in silver. 


The story of this mild-looking woman is one of the 
most romantic in the missionary annals, About 
three years ago she was shut up in a zenana, or 
Indian harem, at Amritsir, where she had been all 
her life. For many days Sherlranu had watched from 
her lattice window' the movements of one of the ladies 
of the Zenana Bible and Medical Mission ; and at 
last, overcome with curiosity, she beckoned the 
Englishwoman to her veranda. Like all inmates of 
the zenana, Sherbanu was appallingly ignorant ; she 
didn't even know w r hat a flower was when one was 
shown to her, having never been out of the house 
from the day of her birth. After the first visit, the 
missionary came frequently to Sherbanu f with the 
result that the latter began to neglect the religion of 
her people* And her people noticed it, testing her 




in various ways so as to confirm their suspicions. 
Seeing that she was a hopeless case — from their 
point of view — - they determined to make away 
with her, her own brother cheerfully volunteering 
for ibis service. Milk permeated with jxm'i tared 
glass was offered to the poor creature, but her life 
was miraculously saved by a pet cat, who first partook 
of the fluid, and died in agony. A few r nights after 
this, Sherbanu donned male attire and walked 
boldly out into the city — for the first time in her life. 
The heroic but helpless woman then followed three 
men — though she hadn't the least notion w here they 
were going. They were bound for the railway 
station and took tickets for Bombay ; so did Sherbanu. 
Outside Bombay station one of the 7» R and M* M. 
ladies was distributing tracts, and, of course, she 
noticed the odd -looking fugitive, who in due time 
entered the Con verts' Home in Bombay* Sherbanu 
was baptized a Christian in March, 1893, and is at this 
moment employed as a Bible- woman by the above- 
mentioned missionary society* 





We often hear ol 
sermons in stones, but 
pictures in potatoes 
are much rarer. Here 
we see a curious freak 
of Nature — a potato 
shaped like a cocka- 
too's head. It was 
sent to these offices 
by Miss Constance 
Williams, of Banbury, 
and photographed by 
our own artist. Many 
similar vegetables are 
brought forward, but 
in most cases their *" ^ 
peculiarities are ** assisted 71 by their owners, 
however, is an untouched specimen. 


Readers of Dr. Conan DoyIe T s fascinating book, 
l( The Sign of Four," will recall with interest these 
deadly little things, "Now, do consider the data s " 
says Holmes to Watson. "Diminutive footmarks, 
toes never fettered by boots, naked feet, stone -headed 
wooden mace, great agility, small p&houtd daris. 
What do you make of all this ? . . , . These 


The native tribes of the Congo are encouraged to 
ruin body and soul with the gin of commerce \ and 
that the poisonous fluid has obtained an astonishing 
hold over them will be evident from this photo, of a 
chiefs grave. You will observe that it is neatly fringed 
with gin -bottles, stuck neck downwards into the earth. 

little darts, too, could only be shot in one way. 
They are from a blow -pipe*" And then you 
remember the hideous dwarf. "Even as we looked 
he plucked out from under his covering a short, round 
piece of wood, like a school -ruler, and clapped it to 
his lips. ... . There, sure enough t just behind 
where we had been standing, stuck one of tlmse 

murderous darts, which we knew so well I 

confess that it turned me sick to think of the horrible 
death which had passed so close to us that night," 


This is a pholograpb of a peculiarly interesting 
scrap of Livingstone's Diary together with his pen, 
now in the possession of Dr. G rat tan Guinness of 
Harley House, Bow* The great missionary had been 

indirectly accused of unworthy motives in his sublime 
labours, and he is replying to his traducers. The 
words were written shortly before his death — were, 
indeed j practically hij last words. 





If you heard that a person 
had handed his cabman a bank- 
note for fifty reis, yuu would 
conclude that he must either be 
a millionaire or a. madman. 
And yet the total value of the 
note is just twopence* This is 
the actual size. Protective print- 
ing is resorted to on the back 
and face, and as many pre- 
cautions are taken as though 
the wretched little thing were 
a real crisp English il fiver*" 

The small picture represents an 
exact model of a Chinese lady's 
foot, 4in. long. Below are the 
shoes, which arc of 
red silk, embroi- 
dered with flowers 
and edged with 
green ; there is a 
blue lappet at the 
back* The foot is 
defer in ed in child- 
hood by the toes 
being lightly bound 
do w n u nder the sol e , 

Nothing is so universal as fashion* These two curioti ^-looking objects 
are worn round the waist in the same way as the farthingale in the 
Elizabethan period, and they answer much the same purpose with the 
Dyak ladies of the present day. They are made of thin, intertwined 
rattan of a dark -brown colour. 


These grotesque little things are weights made of brass and bronze, 
and used hy the Ashaniees for weighing out gold-dust. They were taken 
during Lord Wolse ley's campaign. 

this deformity being considered 
superlatively beautiful* Of course, 
Chinese ladies cannot walk much. 


This prehistoric pickaxe is made 
from the antlers of red deer, and was 
found in a cave in Norfolk, The 
implement lay just as the workman 
left it at the close of his day's 
toil, perhaps 3,000 years ago J and 
finger prints were noticeable at 
the broken end on the right. The 
gallery had evidently fallen in over- 
night, icndering it impossible 10 
recover the tool, 


(""rw^nL'' Original from 




by Google 

{Set page 24Q J 

Original from 

By W. Buckley. 

HE evening was beginning to 
fall, but still the window-panes 
of the little attic, sixiime^ 
occupied by Mr, Philip Weston, 
Professor of Greek, Latin, and 
English, were still reflecting 
the primrose tints of the western sky, where 
the light of the departed day was lingering. 

Mr. Weston was meditating a departure 
also, and the road he had elected to travel 
lay through the muzzle of the cheap, clumsily- 
made Belgian revolver he was carefully 
examining by those fading rays. It really 
did not matter two straws to anyone whether 
he took this course or waited for the slower 
death of starvation which had been staring 
him in the face many a day past, and he 
remembered with a sigh of content that no 
living creature would utttr a word of regret 
when all was over — his heart was as bare as 
his garret. 

Some inexplicable feeling now made him 
lay down the weapon and cross to the 
window, whence he could see the crowded 
streets below, where the gas-lamps were 
beginning to twinkle, and whose murmur 
rose in a sharper diapason, the strenuous 
time of toil having been succeeded by the 
evening hours of wandering, loose-lipped 
enjoyment. After a pause, the man looking 
upon it all nodded his head, kissing his hand 
with a sardonic laugh to the tiny groups in 
isometric perspective beneath, and then, 
rousing himself, closed the window, but 
stood listening a moment, for a faint chord 
of music vibrated upward from the great 
room on the ground-floor, where cardinals 

Vol, *ii-3T, 

had once been received, and where now a 

cafi chaniant was established, 

Mr, Weston listened a few minutes until 
the uncertain violins, catching suddenly at 
the proper note, broke into a jigging quick- 
step, when, shrugging his shoulders, he raised 
the revolver, and instinctively covering his 
eyes with one hand, put the muzzle to his 

At that instant, an approaching footstep, 
which his attention to the music prevented 
him from hearing before, sounded on the 
creaking boards outside, and was followed by 
a light tap on the door panels. A second 
later the door itself was pushed open. 

Mr, Weston put down his pistol hurriedly. 
He had forgotten to turn the key in the lock. 
He was, however, too far beyond the influence 
of ordinary emotions now to feel irritated by 
the interruption ; but had he felt so, the 
sweet face confronting his might have dis- 
armed him. 

It was a young girl's, a girl of perhaps 
fifteen, and as she stood there in a pretty 
attitude of deprecation, the great, luminous 
eyes he had casually noticed once or twice 
before seemed to look at him through and 
through, so that he dropped his own. 

** Come in, Th^rkse," he said, according to 
his wont, kindly. u Well, what do you want 
now ? " 

u The dictionary, monsieur, if you please." 

Mr Weston made a pretence of looking 
round the desolate room. Alas, he knew 
only too well how this useful aid to knowledge 
had gone the way of poor men's books. 

"I must have left it at the Lycde," he 





muttered, alluding to an imaginary abode of 
learning where he was popularly supposed to 
give lessons ; u but if it is a difficult word, 
perhaps I can spell it for you*" 

" Monsieur, it is not a word, but a phrase 
I met in a book "—the child paused and 
reddened slightly — "I have been reading 
this afternoon." 

"Oh, indeed, You are an indefatigable 
student, Therese. Well, and what is the 
phrase ? u 

" It is T^tin, I think. See, I have copied 
it out," she replied j handing a scrap of paper 
to Weston. 

Mechanically adjusting his pince-nez, for 
eyes which failed him too soon 5 the man 
read : — 

"Breve enhn tempus rctatis satis est ad 
bene honesteque vivendum." 

It was his turn to flush a little now. 
There was a time when he had thought the 
span of brittle life too short for all the noble 
things he fain would do, He explained the 
meaning of the words, many memories 
crowding upon him. 

li Where did you read this ? " he asked, a 
new interest in his voice. 

" In a book called < The Crown of Life,' ? ' 

" An English bock? 


l£ Yes, monsieur." 
" Ah, that accounts 
for your English, You 
speak it very well." 

"Oh, but I am Eng- 
lish* The book is one 
my dear mother had. 
She kept it carefully, 
and I began to read it 
only the other day." 

Philip Weston turned 
his back to the light. 
He remembered the 
book distinctly. It had 
been one of those phe- 
nomenal successes of 
a season which invari- 
ably herald either a bril- 
liant series of triumphs 
or a dreary succession of 
failures ; for a sudden, 
unlooked-for victory at 
the outset of a literary 
career is even more 
trying to staying power 
than a train of uninterrupted rebuffs — defeat 
being often a blessing in disguise, since it 
enables a man to detect the very faults which 
might have been hidden from his eyes by the 
dazzling brilliancy of an initiatory success* 
Philip Weston, however, had not followed up 
his first essay, and u The Crown of Life" 
remained in the literary world one of the few 
fortunate hits which the author had not 
equalled or stultified by a second attempt. 

In justice it must be admitted that circum- 
stances had far more to do with this than 
either Weston's sagacity or timorousness. 
Just after the publication of u The Crown 
of Life,' 1 while the anonymous book was 
being praised all over London, and specula- 
tion was rife as to its author's identity, he 
quietly married a young lady who hnd already 
established a moderate reputation at one of 
the lesser theatres. The marriage was not 
a happy one, and before long the young 
wife's inexperience provoked an estrange- 
ment that grew and widened with the passing 

For a time, indeed, husband and wife went 
their different ways, endeavouring to forget 
the yoke binding their unwilling necks, until 
at length a sudden violent quarrel culminated 
in a separation, Philip Weston having used 
words few women forgive* The wife im- 
mediately left her husband's roof, taking with 
her their only child, though leaving him to 
infer the worst. The man, his first wild 
anger past, accepted the situation dully, broke 




up his home, ceased his literary work, and 
went abroad, having lost all his illusions and 
ambitions at one blow ; for he was not of the 
resolute stuff which strides on to success 
even upon the desolation of a heart and the 
ruins of a home. He thought of those things 

" Do you know who wrote it ? " he asked, 

" Oh, yes, monsieur, my father." 

Philip Weston sat down, and, taking the 
revolver, began to polish the butt where the 
nickel had partially worn off. 

Again the preparatory scrape of the violins 
vibrated upward through the worm-eaten 
floors, a young man's laugh mingling with it. 
He was a sergeant of infantry, and a viveur 
who had lately frequented the place. Th£rfese 
reached out her little hand for the paper, 
saying : — 

" Pardon, monsieur; they are commencing. 
I must go." 

" Stay a moment. Where is your mother ? " 

"Ah ! do not ask." The violet eyes filled 
imploringly. " She is dead." 

"Dead! How long?" 

" Two months now. She died a few days 
before you came here. She was very clever, 
and used to play at private theatrical enter- 
tainments and recite and teach music, but 
her health broke down quite suddenly. 
Something, she said, snapped in her heart, 
and then she lost all her pupils, and we came 
to live in this place." 

The literary imagination filled the gap. 
There were girls' voices laughing through 
the jigging of the violins now ; the sergeant 
was telling a story. 

" And you sing here ? " the man asked, 

" Yes, monsieur. Sometimes it is pleasant, 
but not always. But the people are rather 

Philip Weston smiled bitterly. 

"Did your mother ever speak of your 
father?" he asked, his voice sinking to a 

"Yes, often. She said he was a great 
writer — that he had written the book I spoke 
of. But there had been a misunderstanding 
— he was unjust — she said she would explain 
when I got older." 

" Poor soul, poor soul ! " 

" You speak as if you knew her. Oh ! did 
you ? My dear, dear mother ! " 

The man nodded. He could not trust 
his voice. 

A bell tinkled, jerked violently from below. 

" Ah ! I must go now." 

" Stop ! What was your mother's name ? n 

"Th^rfese, like mine. I am called after 

" But, the other name ? " 

" She used a stage one always. The 
people engaged her by it for their entertain- 

" Ah, but her husband's ? " 

"She never mentioned it. She told me 
my father said she had no right to bear it, 
and that now she never would do so until he 
sought her and unsaid his words. She meant 
to explain everything, but death came all in 
one night, and she had no time." 

" Have you never seen your father ? No 
photograph ? " 

The girl shook her head. 

" Mother often described him to me," she 
replied : " a young man, tall, with light hair, 
who walked like a soldier." 

The bowed man before her smiled. The 
description would not aid the most lynx-eyed 
detective now. He regarded the child wist- 
fully. The bell tinkled once more ; she 
moved restlessly. Stepping to the door, he 
put his back to it. 

" She was my wife," he cried, brokenly ; 
" you are my daughter. Oh, my God, how 
fine Thy mills grind ! " 

Th^rfcse gazed at him, scarce comprehend- 
ing, her eyes almost blinded by unshed tears, 
her hands locked convulsively. 

The music below swelled into a fuller 
sound and then was lost in a crash, followed 
by a deafening thunder-clap. Th^r&se turned 
pale. Presently the whole room was per- 
meated with a strange, gaseous smell. Weston 
opened the door. A confused murmur 
wavered up from the cafe chantant High 
above it a woman's startled voice shrieked 
" Fire ! " 

There had been an explosion of gas, and 
the old house was even now burning like 
tinder, the scenery below having caught fire 
almost immediately. Stepping forward, 
Weston took the girl's arm in his and 
attempted to descend the rickety stairs, but 
at the first landing they were compelled to 
halt, a volume of stifling smoke rolling 
upward in a dense, opaque column, and 
cutting them off from the people below, whose 
confused shouts babbled dully through its 
clinging pall, so that ere long they were 
glad to retrace their steps and regain the 

Dashing to the window, Weston flung it 
open, and, seizing the child, lifted her to 
catch a breath of the evening air, the smoke 
pouring out in dense masses with the draught. 





Below, the roof sloped sharply towards the 
street* the edge catting violently against the 
dim, twinkling Place, that seemed very far 
off now. 

To the right stretched some few square 
feet of slates, and then came a gap, the 
slanting line of the gable-end showing clear 
against the sky. The house was a corner 
one, and Weston's attic the nearest to the 
street on which it abutted. 

On the left, however, the other gable-end 
rose high above a second roof, which was 
also uptilted at a perilous angle, and on this 
side lay whatever slender chance of escape 
presented itself to the gasping prisoners. 
Between them and the point indicated pro- 
jected the dormer windows of two other 
attics belonging to the burning house, and 
opening upon a common passage with that 
occupied by Weston. If the room farthest 
off could be gained, they might thence reach 
the fantastic corbel-steps of the gable-end t 
and, perhaps, be rescued when the people in 
the street saw them, though the hope was 
frail, the house being the highest as well as 
the oldest in that quarter. 

Presently a hand touched his, timidly. The 


child had slipped her quivering fingers 
into his. It gave the man courage* 

"I'll save you yet, little daughter," 
he cried, pushing on ; " you were sent 
to me in a dark hour. It cannot be 
that I must lose you now ! " 

The girl sank down by the open 
window and began to pray, her 
hands clasped upon her eyes. The 
man began to pace the creaking floor, 
reeling in his gait, for the smoke had 
almost stupefied him. Soon a crash 
shook the building. One of the lower 
floors had fallen in. 

Mingled with the report, however, 
rose a faint cheer, but not from the 
street directly beneath, showing that 
the fire brigade were on the spot, and 
were even then possibly engaged on 
the front of the house, TWrfese 
sprang to her feet, the love of life in 
her terrified eyes, 

"Oh, father," she cried, imploringly, 
"can you not save me ? Is there no 
escape ? " 

Philip Weston wrung his hands. 
"Why not go out on the roof?" 
continued the girl, 

"On one side there is a street, 

and on the other a fall of several 

feet on to another roof which 

slopes even more than this, I 

noticed the pitch a day or two ago. Even 

if we got so far, it would be impossible 

to descend." 

"But they might see us from the street 
and get ladders ! " 

" Yes, if they were quick enough, and knew 
our danger, as they would if we were in the 
front attics ; but to reach them we should go 
down to the landing, and that is out of the 
question now," 

The girl burst into tears. Weston looked 
round the room desperately. He had no 
intelligent idea of doing anything, but the 
chikTs sobs tortured him. The miserable 
pallet on which he had slept, as he thought 
his last sleep, occupied one corner f and in 
the other stood a rough deal box that had 
contained the clothes and books -long since 
disposed of — which he had brought with 
him to the place. Half smiling at the 
futility of his action, he approached the bed 
and began to tear the sheets and blankets 
into strips, knotting them together afterwards 
in order to make a line, as he had read of 
men doing in similar circumstances, though 
he guessed the wretched material would 
never bear his daughter's light weight, much 



less his own. When he had completed the 
rope, he threw one end over a nail fastened 
high in the wall, and bore downward steadily. 
As he expected, the improvised rope broke. 
Muttering a curse, he tossed the fragments 
from him. 

"No, my daughter," he said, with un- 
conscious cruelty, " we are trapped like rats, 
and must die, it seems, just when we had 
found one another." 

11 But I am afraid to die," panted the girl, 
her young blood thrilled with hope and fear. 
11 It is awful ! Listen to the flames ! Let us 
get out on the roof. It is not so very far 
away. We shall at least be in the open air. 
I cannot die shut up here." 

Philip Weston thought one instant of the 
revolver and its single cartridge still lying 
on the table, but his soul recoiled from the 
suggestion. The cry of the girl, however, 
touched the numbed and palsied energies of 
the man, rousing him to sudden action. A 
fresh thought struck him. 

Rushing to the window, he looked upward 
to the roof-ridge. It was perhaps ten or 
fifteen feet away, but could be easily reached 
by a short ladder. This he had not, but an 
expedient was fast shaping itself in his mind. 
Stepping back to the bedstead, now stripped 
of its squalid furniture, he wrenched out the 
iron girder which had held the framework 
together, and exerting all his strength, bent 
the curved metal until it had taken a hook- 
like shape. Next he drew from behind the 
box a pile of rough Manila rope, which had 
been used to secure the contents, and, bring- 
ing it to the window, rapidly examined the 
coarsely-plaited fibres. 

Satisfied with his inspection, he rapidly 
bound one end to the girder and formed a 
running noose at the other, the girl watching 
him, her hands clasped, and the certain, 
expectant faith of childhood in her eyes. 
Then, bidding her wrap round her loins the 
rug that did duty for a coverlet, he hastened 
to the window and, leaning as far out as he 
dared, whirled the improvised grapnel up- 
wards to the roof-ridge. Twice he essayed 
and failed, but the third time it stuck fast 
between the loosened tiles, so that he found 
with joy he might trust to its hold. 

Now directing the girl to pass the looped 
end round her waist, he left the window, and 
by slow degrees climbed up along the slanting 
slates until he was astride on the crest-tiles. 
Then steadying his voice gallantly, he called 
Thtfrfese to follow. The child, who was 
already half out of the casement, strove to do 
so, but her senses were fast deserting her, 

and she was almost incapable of obeying 

It was a terrible moment. He heard the 
crash of another floor, and the intermittent 
weltering plash of the water from the fire- 
men's hose upon the cracking walls, as it 
sent miniature torrents along the melting 
gutters, its hiss sounding in his ears like the 
menacing voice of the victorious fire whose 
flaming tongues were already running swiftly 
up the splitting wood-work of an attic window 
in the front. Praying the knot would hold, 
he wound the rope round his jvrist, and 
at length drew her, by a herculean effort, 
clear of the casement, sword-like blades of 
wavy flame darting out the next instant, 
flickering to and fro in the languid breeze, 
as if seeking for their prey that had just 
escaped them. 

TWrfese was almost unconscious now, and 
he was obliged to keep her under the lee of 
the crest-tiles, so that the cool, fresh evening 
air might revive her. Otherwise, the rolling 
clouds of hot smoke, lazily curling over from 
the front of the burning house, would have 
probably stifled the breath still trembling on 
her lips. 

Th^rfese drew a shuddering sob, and looked 

"Where am I?" she cried, pushing her 
hair from her startled eyes. 

" Here, safe, with your father," answered 
Weston, " but we must not stay long," and 
he pointed to the blazing attics. " There is no 
chance of being seen from the front. Our 
only hope is to get on the gable-end. Are 
you strong enough to begin ? " 

"Yes, father." 

" Very well. See, I fasten the rope round 
my waist — so. You cannot slip now. Climb 
up and sit on the crest-tiles as if you were on 
horseback. Good ! " 

Agile as a squirrel, the girl was soon seated 
behind her father on the broad, saddle-shaped 

" Now," continued Weston, speaking over 
his shoulder, " do not look down towards the 
street on any account, but watch me, and 
move a second or two after me each time I 
move, and do not forget to keep the rope taut 
between us. Ready ? Come, then ! " 

Still astride, Weston lifted himself slightly 
on his hands and pushed forward a little 
distance, the girl shifting her position also, 
and thus began their perilous advance. The 
progress was slow, and more than once they 
were obliged to pause, panting in the terrible 
depths of the pitchy smoke-clouds which 
blotted the light from their reddened eyes, 




and hung close about them like some huge, 
formless monster slowly strangling its victim's 
life out with the deadly clasp of impalpable 
coils. At length they did reach the gable- 
end, where a high chimney - stack beetled 

heat, accompanied by a clattering crash, and 
looking over their shoulders involuntarily, the 
fugitives saw their own roof was on fire at 
last, the ravening flames ripping the splitting 
slates from the crackling rafters as they came. 

'at length they reached the gable-end/ 

over the neighbouring roofs. But here a new 
obstacle confronted them, appalling the girl, 
stupefying the man, as they clung, horror- 
stricken, to the old-world corbel-steps. The 
next house, an oil shop, which was con- 
siderably lower, had caught fire also. 

This place, indeed, had formerly been 
part of the house where Weston lodged, 
forming in seventeenth century days a wing 
of the great hotel when it belonged to a noble 
French family, and being now merely par- 
titioned off for business purposes, with 
wooden party-walls, had fallen an easy prey 
to the fire. Even as they looked, sinister 
forks of flame peered up between the slates 
on the roof itself, which was fast melting 
away before their resistless advance, while 
whirling volumes of smoke, black above, red- 
shot below, swept upward in endless ver- 
tiginous eddies, 

11 If we had stayed where we were," 
muttered Weston, I( it would have been 
over now." 

Behind came a scorching blast of furnace- 

"Oh, God, is this the end ? JJ moaned the 
girl, wringing her hands. "Must we be 
burned alive — oh, father — alive ? " 

Weston did not reply. He looked down 
into the awful glare below rather than meet 
the glance of those appealing eyes, Just 
then the smoke clouds reeled apart, and he 
saw a maze of telegraph wires threading their 
way through the rolling vapour. They were 
numerous, and closely set in three or four tiers 
upon the cross- staves, the pole itself being 
fastened firmly to the side of the gable where 
he and his daughter crouched, the situation 
offering a favourable/^/ £*appuu Following 
their direction on one side, Weston observed 
that they, ran clear over the street directly 
beneath, to a second roof, which, he could 
make out dimly, was flat. There again another 
support had been fixed, With the sight came a 
desperate thought, a thought which was put 
into words a moment later by his child. Not- 
ing his look, Th^rtse had thrust her head 
under his arm and had caught sight of the 
wires viiyiriai m'jim 




11 Thank God ! " she gasped. " Oh, father, 
we are safe, after all ! See, we need only leap 
down on those wires and tread our way across 
the street. How lucky it is narrow ! " 

" Are you mad, girl ? Those things would 
snap under our bodies." 

" No, no. That is a mistake people often 
make. Every one of these is strong and 
quite capable of bearing a good, heavy 
weight. There was a girl at the cafe chantant^ 
a most respectable girl, father, and she used 
to walk on wires quite as thin as any you see 
here. She told me all about it. But we, of 
course, need not do that. There are so many, 
we can get some under our feet and others 
under our hands, and cross thus more easily 
than you could imagine." 

Weston was not convinced, but the desire 
of life was fierce upon him now. The wires 
were just beneath, several feet away. A 
downward leap would certainly reach them. 
Then, a daring man might work his way 
"along their length— if they held, or if their 
resilience did not send his body spinning 
into the air before he could secure a grip 
upon them. At the worst, it was simply 
anticipating by a few moments the death 
which was speeding rapidly towards them 
beneath the hot slates that were blistering 
their shifting hands. 

" You shall take your chance, little one," 
he cried, suddenly ; " but let us get down by 
those steps, and be as near to the wires as 
possible when we take the leap." 

Without another word they cautiously 
descended, until they were close to the spot 
whence a quaintly carved gargoyle still 
grinned from that dizzy eminence as it had 
grinned upon the men and manners of many 
a vanished generation. In the immediate 
vicinity of this point the roof of the house 
below was untouched as yet by the fire, and 
the fugitives had a few moments' breathing 
space. Weston took a knife from his pocket 
and opened it stealthily ; but the girl was too 
quick for him. 

" No, father, don't cut the rope ! " she 
cried ; " the wires are quite strong enough to 
hold us both. And if I slipped, who would 
save me ? " 

Weston reflected a moment, and then 
nodded assent ; the hooked iron which he 
had used as a grapnel still hung by his side, 
for he expected it might be needed again. 
Quickly severing this, he attached it as firmly 
as he could to that portion of the line 
nearest the girl's waist. Should they be 
successful, it would prove a useful stay amid 
the wires, and afford some slight support in 

Vol. xii.— 32. 

case of a chance slip. There preparations 
completed, he bade her draw the rug tightly 
round her knees to save them from the first 
impact, and then told her to give the word 
when they should leap. Silent, they hung 
together one breathless instant, peering down 
into the flame-shot smoke, and then, warned 
by a thunderous crash, they sprang from the 

A second later they struck blindly against 
the wires, and there clung gasping, amid the 
creaking strands, which quivered and leaped 
with horrible, oscillating jerks as if the things 
were sentient, and were struggling to hurl 
them far over into the street. Above them 
whirled an awful arch of smoke, from whose 
lurid coils dropped a glowing mist of fiery 
sparks, blistering their faces, their hands, and 
singeing their hair in patches to the very 
crown. Beneath they heard the roaring of 
the fire. 

Weston opened his eyes, having involun- 
tarily closed them when he alighted. He found 
himself almost upright, lying against the 
wires which arrested his fall. So thickly 
were they strung, that he succeeded in clutch- 
ing a couple in each hand, and although he 
experienced a swaying, sickening sensation of 
being suspended in mid-air by perilously 
insecure supports, yet he knew for the 
moment he was safe. 

11 Father, father, are you there ? " cried a 
childish voice a little above him in the 

He groped upward, and succeeded in lift- 
ing himself somewhat 

" Yes, dearest," he replied ; " have you a 
good hold ? " 

" Yes, I am all right I liave the wires 
under my feet. Try and get them under 
yours, too." 

Weston lifted himself higher cautiously, 
and slowly moving his feet to right and left, 
at length rested the soles upon one of the 
vibrating wires. Then he carefully shifted 
his place until one of his outstretched hands 
touched the girl's elbow. She was still 
a little above him — consequently, the same 
set did not support them both. Still 
acting with extreme caution, he drew the rope 
binding them together towards him, and 
hooked the grapnel amid the wires, but so 
that it could move freely as they advanced. 

" Now, father," cried Thdrfese, almost 
gaily, " I shall go forward a few inches. Then 
do you follow, and thus we shall cross safely." 

It was not a time for words, the deadly 
smoke yet enfolding them. Immediately they 
began their dangerous passage the grating of 

an their dangerous passa# 




the iron hook apprised Weston of the girl's 
successive movements. Bit by bit they crept 
along the swaying wires, and soon the dull, 
confused murmuring which pierced the 
opaque mist beneath showed them they were 
clear of the house-eaves, and were winning 
their way across the street- The evening breeze 
was beginning to freshen, and as the smoke 
thinned away for a moment or two, a hoarse 
roar from the multitude below told that the 
crowd had caught sight of them, and then, as 
they were seen more plainly, a ringing shout 
of encouragement rent the veering smoke- 

Soon they were half-way across, going at a 
wider interval, lest their combined weight 
should prove too much just here* As it was, 
the wire beneath Weston's feet suddenly 
snapped with a tang that made him shiver, 
and for an instant he hung by one arm, but 
the hook did its work well, and the girl, 
divining instantly what had occurred, clung 
tenaciously to her grip until her father, by a 
desperate effort, righted himself. 

At length they had emerged from the 
smoke, and could discern plainly the scorched 
shrubs on the roof they were nearing, while 
an inspiriting 
cheer from the 
street nerved 
them anew* On 
they crept, the 
girl leading the 
way, panting 
with the effort 
through her 
tightly -clench- 
ed teeth, her 
arms aching 
horribly, one 
little foot, from 
which the worn 
shoe had been 
rent, torn and 
bleeding. The 

wires were taking an upward slant now, and 
slight as it was, it tried their weary frames to 
the utmost. But still they struggled on, gain- 
ing inch after inch ; seeing men, too, on 
the house leads opposite holding out an 
improvised netting strung across poles, lest 
their strength should fail them at the very 
last By this time the street from end to 
end was one universal roar of encouragement, 
every window alive with eager, upward-gazing 
faces. At length they were quite close to 
the projecting cornice. 

11 Courage, father," cried Therfcse* " I 
am clear of the street ; only a few steps 

Her words were lost in a ringing, snapping 
jar, and the wires sagged suddenly beneath 
them, the pole at the other side having been 
burnt from its fastenings* Weston uttered a 
cry of dismay, but the girl at the instant let 
herself drop upon the roof and, grasping the 
rope in both hands, bore backward with all 
her might to counteract the downward trend 
of the jangling wires. After one mad moment 
of blind scrambling, a dozen willing hands 
pulled Weston to safety— giddy, staggering 
forward, falling almost at the feet of his child. 

He did not 
rise at once, but 
remained thus 
for a little space 
apparently ex- 
hausted by the 
terrible ordeal 
through which 
he had passed. 
But in reality 
he was praying 
for strength to 
use worthily the 
new life that 
had been given 
him in the new 
hope dawning 
upon his soul 

by Google 

Ori^ffial from 

Illustrated Interviews. 


1HEN the time arrives for 
cricket history to be written, 
the name of Prince Ranjit- 
sinhji, the young Indian player, 
will be inscribed upon the roll 
of fame, Several things will 
conduce to such an event occurring. In the 
first place, the Prince has rapidly played him- 
self into the hearts and favour of the British 
public. At the present time it would be 
difficult to discover a more popular player 
throughout the length and breadth of the 
Empire. The roar of welcome that goes up 
from the throats of the assembled thousands 
as " K, S." steps upon the field is equal even 
to the outburst of enthusiasm that greets the 
champion, the immortal **W. G.* 1 It may be 
explained that " K, S." stands for u Kumar 
Shri," meaning "Prince," 

Another thing is that, 
although known to first- 
class county cricket for 
barely two seasons. Prince 
Ranjitsinhji, after having 
been most unaccountably 
passed over by the execu- 
tive sitting at Lord's in the 
first of the test matches 
against Australia this year, 
attained the summit of 
a cricketer's ambition by 
being requested to play 
for the mother country, 
at Manchester, when the 
second of the international 
fixtures was decided. 

His performance upon 
that occasion is now a 
matter of history, but I 
must be pardoned for 
referring to it. After the 
failures of such men as 
Mr. W. G. Grace, Mr. 
A- E, Stoddart, and others, with the bat, 
an easy victory for the Colonials appeared 
within measurable distance. Rut the Prince 
came to the rescue of his side. He treated 
the Antipodean bowlers with indi (Terence. 
Jones sent down his express deliveries; Giffen, 
the wily, sent up full tosses for catches * 
Trott tempted him to hit, but every ball was 
met and dispatched, clean and hard, far out 
of the reach of the fieldsmen. 

At the end of the second day's play, Prince 
Ranjitsinhji was not out, and it appeared as 
though he might even then retrieve the 

Digitized by dOOQ lC 

From a Photo, hp h. I!. Lord t Ctiuihrulgr.. 

fortunes of his side* Unfortunately, how- 
ever, he was unable to secure a partner who 
could stay with him, and when the last of 
the English wickets fell, he was not out for a 
grand contribution of 154, made at a time 
when even the bravest heart might have been 
pardoned had it quailed at the stupendous 
task before it. 

Reverting now to county cricket, the Prince 
qualified for Sussex last season. The batting 
of the county had, previous to his inclusion 
in the eleven, fallen considerably from its 
former high estate, although there were still 
men remaining who, upon a good \vicket t 
might generally be relied upon to make runs. 
The inclusion of the young Indian, however, 
strengthened the side considerably, although 
the fact that he was qualified to play took 
most people by surprise. 
Doubts were also expressed 
concerning the wisdom of 
the inclusion of the young 
Cantab, but he soon set 
these at rest by a remark- 
able performance effected 
j upon his first appearance 
for the county. Playing 
against the M.C.C at 
Lord's, he scored 77 not 
out in the first innings and 
150 in his second. 

After this brilliant dis- 
play of batting against 
some of the best 
of the day, the 
continued in a 
vein. He rapidly accus- 
tomed himself to his new 
surroundings, and secured 
runs against all classes of 
bowling. His strokes were, 
perhaps, not quite those 
usually seen upon the 
field, and there were those writers who 
referred to " patents" of his own invention. 
One stroke, upon the leg side, was an especial 
feature of his play, and bowlers* time after 
time, saw their best balls neatly turned aside 
from the wicket, and dispatched to the 
boundary. Still, these strokes brought runs, 
and early in the present season the Sussex 
player deposed Gumi, Abel, and "YV, G," 
heading the list of the first -class batting 

Bearing these facts in mind, I buttonholed 
the Prince upon the cricket field a few weeks 







back, just as he had returned to the pavilion 
after another of his clean-hit and stylishly- 
compiled contributions, 

With a hearty grasp of the hand and a 
pleasant smile, I found him an interesting 
subject Of medium height, and apparently 
not powerfully built, he yet carries a con- 
siderable amount of muscle, lying beneath 
the skin as tense and as powerful as steel. 

14 Can you give me a few particulars of your 
cricket experiences ? " I queried, 

"Certainly," was his 
reply, as he led the way 
to a seat, " I suppose 
you want something 
about my early life ? " 

" Yes." 

"Well, I was born 
in India on September 
io, 1872, at Sarodar, 
in the province of 
Kathiaward. I was 
"always very fond of 
athletics , and, I should 
say, commenced play- 
ing cricket when 1 was 
about ten or eleven 
years of age. Of course, 
you must understand 
that it was a — well — a 
very l illiterate J sort of 
game I played then ; 
while I was at school, 
of course. We students, 
however, had an ad- 
vantage in attending a 
school presided over by 
Mr, Chester Macnaghten, an old Cam^ 
bridge University man. He, of course, was 
very keen upon the summer game ; had 
brought bats, wickets, and other things to his 
school, and gave his students many useful 

11 And I suppose a school eleven was 
formed?" I queried. 

" Yes," was Prince Ranjitsinhji's reply. 
" We had a school eleven, and played two 
other large schools every year. What sort of 
team did we have? Very fair indeed. The 
fielding was very good, although it naturally 
varied at different times. An eleven is never 
at the same pitch of excellence in the field 
for two matches in succession. The batting 
and bowling were also very fair, although I 
think the fielding was the best. 

"How did we proceed at practice? We 
had batting and bowling at the nets, and we 
also formed a couple of rival elevens in the 
school itself. You see, it was like this : we 

had a north side and a south side. Some of 
the students boarded in one, and the re- 
mainder in the other. We formed an eleven 
at each, and played matches between our- 
selves. Near the college we had a cricket 
ground with a very pretty pavilion, presented 
to the college by the late Maharajah of 
Bhownuggur. In front of this we used to 
practise regularly in native costume. The 
name of the school ? The Rajkumar 

College, Rajkote. 


(Who fir^i laugh l the Prince cricket.) 
From a Fhvfo. bjf Johnston <* Hoffmann, Calcutta. 

I spent . eight years 
at it Of course, there 
were only a limited 
number of students, 
about forty, the sons 
of princes and chiefs, 
at school with me, but 
the rivalry when we 
played the High School 
at Rajkote and the 
Girassia School at Wud- 
wan was very keen 
indeed. Other matches? 
Yes, we generally played 
several during the 
season, with the other 
elevens near, of course." 

** But had you no 
coaches?'* was my 
natural question. tf How 
were the principles of 
cricket taught ? " 

u Oh ," was the Pri nce's 
laughing answer, " we 
had no coaches in the 
regular acceptation of 
the term as understood 
had to learn the game 
Macnaghten's hints of 
how matters stood while 

in England. We 
ourselves, with Mr, 
course. That was 
I was at school." 

" And when you came to England ? " 

" I was about sixteen when I first arrived 
in this country. No, I did not proceed to 
Cambridge at once. I remained in London 
for about six months under the care of a 
private tutor, preparing for my exams. 
During that time I played a great deal of 
lawn tennis, a game I am very fond of, and 
a little cricket with a private club, 

"When I went to Cambridge, however, I 
was very keen upon the game, and practised 
assiduously, Naturally, I found a great 
difference in the Indian and English styles, 
and I had, if I may say so, to * unlearn ' 
the former before I could do much with the 

"I found English cricket very different 
from whatOligihfiEdfliM«n accustomed to, 




> ru rrt a J 


[ t'kiAoift'ufifi, 

although I had the advantage of being 
coached by some of the Surrey professionals, 
suchasSharpe, Richardson, Lock wood, Watts, 
and others. They come down to Cambridge 
every year, I may explain, to coach the 

" Did I not find the new game hard to 
learn ? Yes, I did, for it was almost two 
years before I was capable of doing much 
with it, I should say that I was not able to 
play it properly until 1891. Of course, I did 
not go into the University eleven until 1893. 
That was, in fact, my first and last year, as 
I came down at the end of the season*" 

These remarks brought the conversation 
round to the subject of University cricket 

"Cricket at both Oxford and Cambridge/' 
Prince Ranjitsinhji explained, "is generally 
very good. County cricketers, I am aware, 
do not invariably look upon the play as first- 
class ; yet when we are pitted against them 

we generally give them a good game — often 
as not beat them. Judged by that test 
I think, myself, a more serious view should 
be taken of the play. The batting of a 
University team, however, is invariably better 
than the bowling, although we have brought 
out some very good men. Why such is the 
case, however, may be readily explained, A 
man takes his place at the nets with the bat, 
and as he finds he can get a professional to 
bowl to him, he does not worry himself about 
the matter. 

"The fielding of a University team is also 
invariably good, although I am afraid there 
has been a tendency of late years to overlook, 
in a measure, this department of the game. 
The reason for this, perhaps, is that there is 
too much practice at the nets, and, as a result, 
there is no opportunity of fielding the ball 

"What about a player securing his Blue? 
Of course, the first trial means everything to 
If he should not come off, there is 

a man. 









*Y#*n o /■V.J-.i.Tii j h 

not much chance for his being included in 
the team, for that year at least* Yes, he is 
afforded another chance in the trial matches, 
but he is generally so anxious then that he is 
unable to do himself full justice. A player 
* funks ' it, if 1 may so express myself. Then 
the captain remarks : ■ What use would it be 
to play that man ? He's too nervous, 1 The 
result is he has to wait for another year. 

" No, I cannot say there is much to choose 
between Oxford and Cambridge as regards 
the play generally. The batting, however, 
is very different, although, personally, I prefer 
that shown by the Light Blues, It appears to 
me to possess more taking style. Why is that ? 
Well, I really cannot say, unless it is in con- 
sequence of there being less coaching at 
Oxford than at Cambridge. 

li There are better bowlers produced 
at Oxford. Why is that ? I suppose the 
ground at Fanner's is better adapted, and is 
easier than the Parks at Cambridge. The 
bowlers meet with greater success at practice, 
and consequently do not lose heart, and 
persevere. That is the only explanation I 
can give of the matter 

" County cricket ? Oh, I think that is 
very good indeed, as a rule ; although there 
is a proviso to be added, That is, that I 
consider it is beginning to be looked upon 
in a too serious manner, and is being made 
too much of a business character. 

" The counties ? On their season's all- 
round form, I think that Surrey is the best 
team. Here, also, I might add — upon a 
good wicket. Yorkshire, on the other hand, 
are the best team upon a bad wicket 
Another thing is, that I consider if 
Richardson were taken out of the Surrey 
team, they would drop back consider- 
ably. Richardson is a grand bowler, and in 
his absence the county eleven would suffer 
an almost irretrievable loss. Of course, the 
same may be said of others beyond Surrey. 
For instance, if you were to take Mold out 
of the Lancashire team, the result would be 
the same. No, I do not think Yorkshire 
would be affected in the same manner if any 
one particular bowler were withdrawn. They 
have a first-class reserve to fall back upon T 
and are in fact a fine, all-round batting, bowl- 
ing, and fielding side.*' 

Australian cricket was then touched upon 
by the Prince. 

"The Antipodean eleven playing in 
England are a very good side," he remarked. 
u They are very good all round, but their 





WUiwm Whitby, 




batting, as a whole t is 
superior to their bowl- 
ing. Still, they have 
been very successful in 
their engagements, 
haven't they? Yes, I 
should say they are a 
better team than any 
other I have seen with 
one exception, in the 
bowling of the 1888 
eleven. At that time 
C. T. B. Turner and 
Ferris were at their best," 

41 Let me see, I think 
G. R & Trott coached 
you a little when you 
first came to England ? 3t 
I remarked. 

11 No," was the smil- 
ing reply, ** there's not 
an atom of truth in that 
report. Yes, I see it 
has been stated as a 
fact in certain quarters, 
but you may deny it 
in toto* What really happened was this : When 
I came across from India, I visited the Oval 
in company with my tutor. The match then 
being played was Surrey v. the Australians. 
We were invited into the pavilion, and Mr. 
Alcock very kindly introduced several mem- 
bers of the Colonial eleven to me. Percy 
McDonnell, C T. B. Turner, and G. H. S. 
Trott were amongst the number. They 
chatted to me upon cricket matters for a few 
moments, but I re- 
ceived no hints 
whatever. How the 
idea first gained 
ground I am unable 
to say ; but it is 
utter nonsense to 
imagine for a 
moment that I was 
then assisted in any 
way by Trott." 

So a very pretty 
romance woven 
round the appear- 
ance of the young 
Prince against his 
former mentor at 
Manchester was 
exploded in a 
moment No doubt 
a chance remark 
first started the 
story, and other 


Jtrom a Photo, b§ £f«ctrn N Citnibridfft. 

details were supplied as 
it went the round* 

Then, as a recollec- 
tion of the incident at 
the University match 
crossed my mind, I 
questioned the Prince 
upon the subject; 
whether he thought the 
tactics of the Cambridge 
captain were justified 
under the conditions 
governing the play, and 
so on. 

" No," he opined, « I 
cannot say that I think 
it was necessary to pur- 
sue such a course. They 
did not require to pre- 
vent the follow on, and, 
I think, would have 
done better had they 
allowed the Oxonians 
to continue batting. It 
was, however, simply 
an error of judgment, 
for no doubt the Cambridge captain was of 
opinion that the wicket would crumble as 
play went on, and the side having the fourth 
innings would be at a disadvantage* 

" Instead of that, however, I believe the 
wicket improved, and was better on the third 
day than the second. So you see their only 
excuse for sending down wides and no balls 
was gone. No, I cannot say I think a larger 
number of runs to render a * follow on ' 

by Google 


Fmm a Photo by R, fl. U-i, Cumbrviv*. 




1P^^ iffTHiiiiiaiW 

" DWVWC," 
From a Phvfa. tjxHaUv taim for ,+ Tl* 5mrwrf Ifapruw." 

necessary is required. The present number 
(120) I think is quite sufficient for all practical 
purposes, and I would not recommend its 
increase to 150, 180, or 200. 

4t Public school cricket? Yes, I think it 
pretty fair when taken upon the average, 
Of course, I only know of Dulwich, Harrow, 
and Uppingham, Harrow is, undoubtedly, 
the superior school out of the three I have 
named, Why ? Because they are well 
coached there, and many of the masters are 
very fine players. Take Mr. A. C. MacLaren 
for instance* He is a master at Harrow, 
and no doubt his example and style exercise 
a good effect upon the boys. 

" What style of batting should I recom- 
mend ? I should advise any young player to 
follow up the style, under capable coaching, 
that comes to him naturally. I cannot say I 
am an advocate for stone-walling, but every 
player finds it necessary to exhibit a certain 
degree of caution at times. There is no 
reason why a batsman, however, should try to 
score at the expense of getting out, and 
simply to earn the applause of a certain 
section of the public. 

" The showy player may be cheered by 
those who simply visit a match for the express 

purpose of witnessing rapid scoring, arid who 
do not care or know anything about the more 
delicate side of the game, I certainly do not 
believe in 4 playing for the gallery,' neither do 
I believe in making the game unnecessarily 
slow- A player should endeavour to strike 
the happy medium, 

"The method of the county championship? 
I think it was a right and generous recogni- 
tion of merit when the new counties were 
included in the running, and it has made 
the struggle keener. Oh, yes, I have heard 
that several advocate some of the older 
counties being dropped, but I do not favour 
such a suggestion, 

" Sussex, for instance, has a very dangerous 
side. For one thing, we never know when 
we are beaten, and we have this season 
accomplished some very fine performances — 
some that other counties would find difficult to 
surpass* In the Whit- week we were set over 
200 when we followed on against Gloucester 
and Hampshire, Yet, at the finish, we were 
only robbed of victory by the call of time, « 

''Again, when we met Oxford University 
we had over 380 runs to get, and only about 
three hours and three-quarters to do it 
in. Still, we were within 18 of the required 



number when stumps were drawn, Unfortu- 
nately, we have been afflicted this year by 
an epidemic of bad fielding, easy catches 
being missed time after time, I am unable 
to say why this has been the case ; a team 
cannot maintain one standard of excellence 
in each of their engagements ; but when you 
find the best men offenders in this respect, you 
can put it down to sheer bad luck for the side." 

From county cricket we then passed to 
play generally, in India, 

''There was not much good cricket there 
while I was at home," said the Prince, " It 
has, however, greatly advanced of late, judging 
by the statements of Lord Hawke and Lord 
Harris, The Parsees 
have improved con- 
siderably in parti- 
cular* Naturally, the 
visits of English 
elevens have given 
in the past, and will 
give in the future, 
a great impetus to 
the game. But there 
is a great disadvant- 
age which the native 
players have to con- 
tend against — that 
is the absence of 
professional bowlers 
or coaches, J, T, 
Ilea me, I believe, 
is the only player 
who visits India at 
the present time, 
although I think a 
Surrey man went 
out a few years 
back to coach the 

* Why are there 
no professionals 
there ? One reason 
is that the whole 
of the grounds 
there are more or less public. Then there is 
a little coaching obtainable from any amateur 
player of English nationality near, although I 
am afraid that is not worth much in the 
majority of instances. 

" Another matter that retards cricket in 
India is that it is impossible to play much 
during the rainy season, and not at all during 
the height of the summer During the season 
I first mentioned it is impossible to know 
when heavy rain may fall, and although we, as 
schoolboys, played at any time, adults do 
not take the same view of the situation* 

Vol. *ii.-3& 

" Yes," he replied* 

From a Photo. tptciaUv takmfor " the Strami Ma&ui&*.* 

"Cricket is played, as a rule, during the 
winter. It is just comfortable then, some^ 
tiling like a warm English spring day. It is, 
however, chilly in the morning up till about 
ten o'clock, when the sun commences to 
make itself felt, then hot up to six o'clock. 
At night it is really quite frosty, So you 
may judge from that that cricket in India has 
to be played under considerable disadvan- 

A recollection of seeing the Prince in 
football costume while at Cambridge next 
provoked a question from me upon the 

I played football at 
Cambridge until I 
hurt my knee, then 
I thought it time 
to give it up. As- 
sociation at first, 
and Rugby after- 
wards, as I cared 
for it much more 
than the dribbling 
game; my knee 
gave way, however, 
at Association. 

"Which do I con- 
sider the best game? 
Rugby, certainly. It 
is possible to get 
up your interest in 
even a bad game 
under that code ; 
but under the other, 
the play must be 
very good indeed to 
repay watching it 

** Another thing 
is, I consider Rugby 
far safer from a 
player's point of 
view. You may get 
a scratch or a 
bruise, but in Asso- 
ciation, if you are 
kicked or thrown, the injury is of a far more 
lasting character. 

" Do I go in for athletics ? Not much now, 
but I am very fond of shooting. Cycling ? 
Yes, I cycle a little, and I have two American 
bicycles in the pavilion now. I am very fond 
of tennis and racquets. In fact, at one time I 
played the former very much better than I did 
cricket Yes " {in reply to an incredulous 
smile on my part), " I assure you it is a fact 11 
" And I believe you bowl a little ? " I 
remarked, as I rose to leave the Prince. 
" Yes, I or r. be wl a little. In fact, I was 






From (« Photo. Hfmeiallg takrn for 

very successful when 
I first commenced 
playing for Sussex, 
Now, however, Mr, 
Murdoch does not 
care to put me on, as 
he is afraid I should 
spoil my batting, Mr. 
Stoddart, of Middle- 
sex, is not put on to 
bowl, I believe from 
the same cause, so we 
sympathize with each 
other for the harsh 
treatment of our re- 

J &u 

spective captains* My style ? I should 
describe it as being a slow medium, 
with a break from the off," 

Then, as a final question, I asked 
the Prince if he could tell me how 
he had been so successful at such an 
early period of his career, 

l( Luck," was his laughing response. 
" I commence my practice very early. 
I am shooting through the winter, 
and so keep myself fit, and in April 
I am at the nets. But luck is every- 
thing with a cricketer. If he has that — - 
and a little skill —he has little to fear. ,T 
The following interesting letter from 
Prince Ranjitsinhji will bring this 
interview to an appropriate con- 
clusion :— 

August 1st, 1&96, 
To the Editor of The Strand Magazine. 
DEAR SIR,— I thin!: it only right to in- 
form you that my late principal and friend, 
Mr, Chester Macnaghten, was the first and 
chief agent in making me fond of English out- 
door sports — cricket and racquet principally, 
I have always been grateful to him for it, 
and I take this the first opportunity of cor- 
recting statements in several papers uf my 
having commenced playing thest games in 
England in 1888. I 
was much pained to hear 
of his untimely death 
some months ago, or 
else I should have 
been able to get much 
interesting information 
about the Kajkumar 
College and my early 
school-days. I take this op- 
portunity also of thanking 
the British public for the 
very kind way in which 
they liave always received 
me on all grounds, and 
that has in no small 
measure conduced to my 
success in cricket. Trust- 
ing that I have not en* 
croached 100 much on 
your valuable space, I 
re main T yours truly, 




part of prince RAPTjiTsi^uj 2'±l CmrtaP m 



7 he A dventures of a Man of Science. 

By L. T. Meade and Clifford Halifax, M.D. 

We have taken down these stories from time to time as our friend, Paul Gilchrist, has related them to us. He is a man 
whose life study has been science in its most interesting forms — he is also a keen observer of human nature and a noted tiaveller. 
He has an unbounded sympathy for his kind, and it has been bis lot to be consulted on many occasions by all sorts and conditions 
of men. 


FEW years ago a total eclipse 
of the sun was expected to be 
visible in Ceylon and Southern 
India. Having never seen the 
great world of light under 
these interesting conditions, I 
arranged to join a party of solar spe:troscopists, 
who were about to start for India. We arrived 
at our destination in good time, and had the 
satisfaction of witnessing a total eclipse of 
nearly six minutes' duration. The phe- 
nomenon of the corona, or ring of light, was 
especially striking, as also were the irregular, 
red-coloured protuberances round the direct 
body of the moon. 

We made our observations in the hill 
country, and immediately afterwards started 
for the coast The man who took the lead 
in all our investigations bore the name of 
Sir John Tregenna. He was without doubt 
the most enthusiastic of the party. He 
was tall, dark, and wiry in appearance, a 
noted astronomer, and the envy of his fellow- 
travellers, owing to the fact that he pos- 
sessed one of the finest telescopes in his 
part of the country. But, keen specialist 
that he was, outside his own science he 
seemed to take little or no interest in anything. 
His history, as far as I could make it out, was 
commonplace. He was a man of good family, 
being, indeed, a baronet of long descent. 
He owned a large property on the sea coast 
in Cornwall bearing the name of Tregenna 
Manor. Sir John had been married for 
several years, but had no children. This fact 
might possibly account for the gloom which sat 
at longer or shorter intervals on his fine face, 
for it was an open secret that the splendid 
property of Tregenna Manor was strictly 
entailed, and would go to a distant branch of 
the family if Sir John died without issue. 

On a certain intensely hot night, as he and 
I were standing together on the veranda 
just outside one of the big hotels at Madras, 
he wiped the moisture from his brow, turned 
round, saw that we were alone, and, crossing 
his arms, looked full at me. 

" You are a bit of a doctor, are you not, 
Gilchrist?" he said. 

" I have studied medicine and surgery," I 

"So I have just been informed. Well, the 
fact is — I am anxious about my wife.'? 

Copyright, 1896, 

" I^ady Tregenna ? — I hope she is well," I 

u I hope so, too," he replied, with a grim 
smile; "but" — he paused, then brought out 
the following words with a burst which re- 
vealed irrepressible agitation — "when I left 
England there was a hope that she might 
present me with an heir to the property. We 
have been married for over ten years. It was 
imperative that I should accompany this 
expedition, or I should not have left her 
at such a critical time. I expected news 
before now. It was arranged that my 
doctor was to cable to me here " — he broke 
off abruptly. 

" The silence makes me uneasy," he said, 
after a pause. . "I am glad that I am soon 
returning home." 

He had scarcely said the words before a 
servant appeared, bearing two cablegrams on 
a salver. One was addressed to Sir John 
Tregenna, the other to myself. I noticed 
that he changed colour as he took his 
from the salver. Out of consideration for 
him I left the veranda and entered the 
heated room where we had just dined. I 
opened my own cablegram. It was some- 
what long, containing a good deal of valuable 
information in cipher. It was from a doctor 
friend in town with whom I largely corre- 
sponded, and whose discoveries as regarded 
medicine coincided very closely with some I 
had made myself. The final news in the 
cablegram startled and distressed me : — 

" Your fellow-traveller, Sir John Tregenna, 
is disappointed of his hope of an heir. Lady 
Tregenna gave birth to a boy this morning, 
who only lived one hour." 

I made an ejaculation under my breath. 
Sir John's eager face, the look in his eyes 
when he spoke of an heir to his property, 
flashed painfully now before my mental 
vision. The blow he was about to receive 
was a cruel one. 

I had just thrust the cablegram into my 
pocket when a grip of almost iron intensity 
on my arm caused me to turn abruptly. Sir 
John had entered the room, his hair was 
standing up wildly over his head, his eyes 
looked as if they would burst their sockets. 
Doubtless his own communication had 
acquainted him with the disaster. I was 
about to make use of some ordinary words 


L\ 1 1 I :i I I I '_' 

fftfflftlTY OF MICHIGAN 

2 Go 


of commiseration when I was startled by the 
following sentences from the Baronet's lips. 

*' Gilchrist," he gasped* " I can scarcely 
contain myself, the relief is so immense. I 
am the father of a fine boy. The property 
is saved." 

He dragged me out on to the veranda, 
and stood there mopping himself and breath- 
ing hard. 

"This is a relief," he muttered, at intervals, 

I did not dare to tell him the news I had 
just received His excitement was so great 
that to dash it to the ground now might 
almost kill him. 

II You do not Tealize what this means to 
me," he said, presently, slipping his hand 
through my arm and pacing up and down. 
" If I have an enemy in the world, it is the 
man who was to have succeeded me at the 
Manor. His name is Dayrell Tregenna, 
How that wretch has hankered and longed 
for my death ; but, ha ! ha ! the little fellow 
will put matters right now. Dayrell won't 
dare show his nose within twenty miles of 
the Manor from this day out. He, and his 
cursed brood with him, can go to the Anti- 
podes for all I care. The child makes all 
right. So lady Tregenna is a mother at 
last Well, I am a happy man to-night." 

He would scarcely allow me to speak* 
Like most very reserved people, when he gave 
voice to his emotions he said far more than 
he intended. It was late when we both 
retired to rest, 

"I shall take passage home to-morrow/' 
were his last words to me ; C( I cannot rest 
until I see the kid To think that I have a 
lad of my own after these long years of wait- 
ing, and that Dayrell is ousted. The thought 


of Dayrell gives the highest flavour to my 
joy. Wish me luck, Gilchrist," 
"I certainly do," I answered, 
"And prosperity to the boy and a long 
life, eh? 31 

"Yes," I replied, again. But the 
thought of the news which lay in my 
own breast pocket caused the words 
to stick in my throat. 

" You look stunned, man/' said Sir 
John. "It is plain to be seen that 
you are not married, or you would 
not express yourself so lamely/* 

" I am neither married, nor have I 
lands to leave to my descendants," I 
replied ; l£ but I heartily wish you luck, 
Sir John." 

(i When you come to England you 
must visit me at the Manor and see 
the child for yourself," were his last 
words. " Now, don't forget ; I know 
your address in town, and will write 
to you* To tell you the truth, Gil- 
christj you are the only man of our 
party in whom I feel a particle of 
interest. You shall come to the 
Manor and be introduced to the boy," 

There was not a word about Lady 
Tregenna- 1 went wondering to my bed- 

The next day Sir John sailed for England, 
and soon afterwards, one by one, the little 
band of scientific men who had gathered 
together to witness the eclipse departed on 
their several ways. 

It so happened that I did not leave India 
for several months, and during that time was 
concerned to learn that my special friend, Dr + 
Collett, the man who had sent me the cipher, 
had died suddenly. His death had taken 
place on the very day on which the cipher 
was forwarded to me by cablegram. We had 
been old chums for years, and had been 
associated in more than one investigation of 
interest I mourned his loss considerably, 
and when I did return to England the 
following summer, thought with sadness of 
the empty place which he could no longer 
fill, and of the active, kindly, and busy brain 
now for ever at rest. 

Amongst the pile of letters which waited 
for me in my flat in Bloomsbury, I saw one 
in the somewhat eccentric handwriting of 
Sir John Tregenna. I opened it. 

11 Poor fellow," I reflected ; " he must have 
discovered his loss by this time. God help 
him ! I never saw anyone in such a state of 
undue excitement as he was in during that 
last evening we spent together at Madras," 




"Dear Gilchrist," the letter ran— "I am 
given to understand that you will be back in 
the Metropolis some time in June. I hope 
as soon as ever you do arrive, and have read 
the contents of this, you will pack up your 
portmanteau and come straight down to 
Tregenna Manor. I want to show you the 
boy. He is as fine a lad as the heart of 
father could desire, Dayreil is still in the 
country, and sometimes visits at the Manor, 
but with my fine young heir to look at, I no 
longer mind him. In short, I breathe freely. 
" Yours, John Tregenna." 

After reading this letter I felt a curious 
desire to glance once again at the cablegram 
which Collett had sent me, and which, 
amongst other items of intelligence, had 
informed me that Lady Tregenna had given 
birth to a boy, who had died after an hour of 
life, I had been careful not to destroy this 
cablegram. I took it now from the box 
where it lay, and read it over carefully once 
more. There was no doubt whatever of the 
meaning of the words. Had Collett been 
alive, I would certainly have gone to his 
house in Harley Street to talk the matter 
over with him ; but as it was now impossible to 
get a solution from that quarter, I could only 
wait for the mystery to unravel itself. After 
thinking a moment I decided to accept Sir 
John's invitation, and wrote an acceptance 
that very day. Shortly afterwards I packed 
my belongings and started for Cornwall. 

Sir John himself met me at 
the station. All his taciturnity 
and gloom had left him— 
he was now a talkative and 
particularly cheerful man. 

11 Here you are," he cried, 
stretching out his great hand 
and wringing mine. 

'* And how is the boy ? " 
I asked* 

" Splendid — grand little 
chap. Has not had an hour's 
illness since his birth." 

"And Lady Tregenna?" 

£ * As fit as paint — what 
should ail her ? You will 
see her for yourself in a 
moment or two. Now then, 
we will just pull up here — 
yon catch the first glimpse 
of the house from here. It is 
the kind of place that a man 
would like to hand down 
to his son, eh ? Did you speak, Gilchrist ? J 

"I did not/ 7 I replied. "1 see that you 
have got a very beautiful place, Sir John." 

*' It has been in the family for generations. 
Now, come, I will introduce you to the wife 
and kid in a moment. Bless the boy, he is 
a fine chap, that he is. ?1 

The Baronet whipped up his horses, and a 
moment or two later we drew up in front of 
the fine old mansion. Lady Tregenna was 
standing on the steps — a nurse, dressed from 
head to foot in white, stood a little behind 
her, holding a baby in her arms. 

u Well, Kate, here we are,' 1 called out her 
husband; "bring the boy down, won't you? 
This is Gilchrist. Let me introduce you: 
Lady Tregenna — \fr. Gilchrist Now, then, 
wife, bring the boy along. Eh, Gilchrist, 
what do you think of him, eh?" 

While her husband spoke, I noticed that 
I,ady Tregenna slightly blushed. Her com- 
plexion was pa]e t and the blush became her 
— her eyes grew very bright. She fixed them 
neither on me nor on the child, but with 
great intentness on her husband. She 
seemed to look him all over from top to 

toe. I noticed 
that she did 
not once glance 
at the child. 

"Come, little 
man," said the 
father ; w come 
to your dad, Here he is, Gilchrist, not 
more than six months old — a good speci- 
men, eh?-* r| 9 |na ' from 




" A very fine boy," I answered, glancing at 
him hastily. 

When I said this Lady Tregenna moved 
a few paces away. Having done so, she 
turned slowly. 

" Perhaps, John/' she said, " Mr. Gilchrist 
is not so much interested in children as we 
are ; that is natural, is it not ? Shall I show 
you the gardens, Mr. Gilchrist, or would you 
rather go straight into the house before tea?" 

" I will accompany you," I replied. " But 
you are mistaken," I added, u in supposing 
that I am not interested in this boy. I 
happened to be in the same hotel at Madras 
with your husband when he received the 
cablegram announcing his birth." 

" Aye, that was a red-letter night for me," 
said the Baronet He glanced affectionately 
at his wife as he spoke. The moment he 
did so her whole face altered : it became 
suddenly very beautiful ; she had deep, very 
dark violet eyes, and they lit up now as if a 
torch had illuminated them from within, her 
lips parted in a slow, happy smile. She 
raised one of her slender hands to push back 
the hair from her forehead. I noticed then 
a curious expression about her face which 
denoted not only beauty but strength. I 
saw at a glance that she had in many ways 
more character than her husband, but she 
was also a woman who looked as if on 
occasions she might do something desperate. 
I felt much interested in her. She again 
approached her husband's side and put out 
her hand to touch one of the boy's. 

For the first time I surveyed the infant 
critically. He was a well-grown boy, with 
somewhat large features, but I could not 
detect the slightest likeness to either parent. 
The mother was very fair, but the father had 
a swarthy skin, with dark eyes, aquiline 
features, and black hair. The baby neither 
possessed the beauty of the mother nor the 
distinction of the father. He was an ordinary- 
looking child, hundreds like him to be found 
all over the length and breadth of England. 

"You are doubtless thinking," said Lady 
Tregenna, who seemed to be reading my 
thoughts, " that the boy is not like either his 
father or me ? " 

" I cannot see a likeness," I replied. 

" Bless him," said the Baronet, " he is only 
six months old ; you can never tell how 
children will turn out at that tender age. 
Now, for my part, I have often thought that 
he had a look of you, madam " — he nodded, 
smiling, at his wife as he spoke — "about the 
lips for instance. He has an uncommonly 
pretty mouth, bless the little lad." 

Digitized by Google 

11 He is not really like me, John," she 
answered, " nor is he like you." 

"Well, well," said Sir John, impatiently, "he 
is a fine boy, and quite after my own heart. 
But, here, I must really take up no more of 
Gilchrist's time drivelling over the infant. 
Nurse, take him, will you ? See you give him 
plenty of air ; it is a splendid day, and the 
more he is out in the sunshine the better." 

The nurse, a grave, middle-aged woman, 
with a dark face and thin, compressed lips, 
came slowly forward, took the boy in her 
arms, and vanished with him round a corner 
of the house. 

" We are going to have tea on the lawn," 
said Lady Tregenna, turning to me. " May 
I show you the way ? " 

"All right, wife, you look after him," said 
Tregenna. " I must go to the stables, but 
will join you presently." 

Lady Tregenna conducted me under a 
thick arch of roses on to a small lawn, where 
she seated herself by a little tea-table. She 
motioned me to a seat near her. 

" It is strange," she said, after a long 
pause, " that you should have been with my 
husband when he received the message that 
he was the father of a boy." 

" There is something else stranger," I 
continued, impelled, I can scarcely tell by 
what, to force my information upon her. " I 
also received a cablegram the same night 
from my very old friend, Dr. Collett." 

"Collett?" she said. "Dr. Collett of 
London ? " 

" Yes, of Harley Street. Did you know 
him ? " 

" He happened to attend me when my boy 
was born." 

She did not change colour in any way, but 
I noticed that she toyed with her teaspoon, 
and dropped three lumps of sugar into the 
cup of tea which she was about to drink. 

" My cablegram was a curious one," I 
continued ; " it was in cipher, of course. It 
gave me false information with regard to you. 
Collett told me that your baby died shortly 
after its birth." 

" My baby died— little John died ? " said 
the mother, half rising from her seat, and 
then sitting down again. She stared full 
at me. There was no added flush on her 
cheeks, nor did her large, violet eyes look 
more than slightly startled. 

" What a strange mistake to make." she 
said, with a light laugh. 

"It was." 

" Absolutely without foundation," she con- 
tinued. " But, then, Dr. Collett died on the 




day of my baby's birth. He may not have quite 
known what he was telegraphing to you about." 
** I had scarcely read his words," I con- 
tinued, y before your 
husband appeared, in 
a great state of excite- 
ment, to inform me 
that alt was well and 
that you were the 
mother of a fine boy. 
Undoubtedly, the boy 
is a fine little chap* 
1 congratulate you 



At that moment Sir John's voice was heard 
in the distance. Lady Tregenna stood up 
eagerly. She had taken my news almost too 
calmly, but now there was unmistakable 
agitation in her voice, look, and manner, 

"Not a word to him," she said, in a 
whisper. " I would not let him know for the 
world, he would think it unlucky. You will 
promise ? " 

11 As I did not tell your husband at the 
time, I should have no possible reason for 
repeating the news now," I said " His affec- 
tion for the child is quite touching," 

u He has the best of reasons for loving 
him," she answered. She left me, walking 
slowly across the grass. 

That evening Tregenna took me into his 
study, and we spent a short time examin- 
ing the valuable photographs he had taken 
in India of the sun's eclipse. Just before 
we parted for the night he stood up, 
looked me full in the face, and spoke. 

" So you think the boy a fine little chap, 
eh ? " he said. 

" Undoubtedly/' I replied, with a smile, 

" And I^ady Tregenna 
— she seems pleased to 
be the mother of the 
little fellow, eh ?-* that 
strikes you, eh ? " 

" You are wrapped 
up in him/' I said, 
evasively, for I had 
noticed from the first 
that Lady Tregenna 
scarcely ever men- 
tioned the child, and 
as far as I could tell 
appeared to take no 
special interest in him. 
Tregenna's face be- 
came crimson. 

" I see you observe 
what I have noticed 
myself," he exclaimed, 
u The fact is, there is 
no accounting for 
women. 1 thought she 
would have been wild 
about the lad ; but, as 
a matter of fact, never 
did a woman take a 
child more calmly, Not 
that she neglects him — far from that. She 
sees that he is well looked after, and has 
him brought to her once or twice daily ; 
but she never pets him — it is a fact, 
Gilchrist, that I ha%e never seen her once 
kiss him of her own accord, Bless me, 
Gilchrist, I don't understand women. It is 
not even as if Lady Tregenna were a cold, 
phlegmatic sort of woman ; she is all passion, 
fire, enthusiasm ; but where that child is con- 
cerned- — -■ he put up his handkerchief to 
wipe the drops from his forehead as he spoke ; 
his eyes were full of a queer apprehension. 

** People have different ways of showing 
their affection," I replied, 

He took no notice of my speech, 
-t I sometimes think I bore her by the 
delight which the fact of possessing that 
child gives me," he continued; "but, there, 
I am keeping you up, and you must be 
desperately tired." 

He conducted me to my room, bade me 
good-night, and left me. I went to the 
window and flung it wide open. There was 
no moon, but innumerable stars studded the 
dark blue of the heavens, I extinguished 
the lights Jn the chamber/ put my head out 
of the windo?/, and looked around me- A 




fresh breeze blew upon my face, and my 
sleepiness vanished instantly. I felt a sudden 
longing to steal downstairs and go out for a 
long ramble. No sooner did the notion 
come to me than I acted upon it. The 
house was already shut -up, but I managed to 
make my way to a side door, which I un- 
barred and let myself out, 

I wandered down the broad central avenue, 
intending to branch off in the direction of 
the sea. 1 was walking on the grass, and not 
making the slightest noise, when voices 
startled me. They seemed to be quite close. 
I stepped back into a deep shadow. The 
first words I heard were in I^ady Tregenna's 
high-bred tones, 

11 1 cannot go on with this much longer, 
Dayrell/' she cried. " I cannot possibly give 
you what you require, for I have not got it. 
You have drained all my resources, Here, 
if you will have it, take this ring, it is of great 
value. If he misses it from my finger I can 
but tell him another lie." 

I saw her give something to a man who 
stood near, then she turned abruptly and 
walked back to the house, stumbling and 
half falling as she walked. As soon as she 
had left him, the man took a pipe from his 
pocket and a box 
of matches. He 
calmly lit the pipe, 
and then by the 
light of another 
match examined 
the ring which she 
had just given 
him. I could see 
the diamonds 
flash for a moment 
in the light caused 
by the match, then 
there was com- 
plete darkness. He 
slipped the ring 
into his breast- 
pocket and turned 
to leave the 

I waited quietly 
until he had gone 
some distance, and 
then made up my 
mind to follow 
him. He reached 
a stile which he 
mounted and 
which led direct 
into the high road. 
Still keeping my 


distance, I did likewise. He walked in the 
direction of the village, which was within a 
stone's throw of the sea. Presently, in the 
extreme quiet of the night, he stopped still, 
as if he were listening. The belated moon 
arose at that moment, and turning abruptly, 
the man saw me following him. He stopped 
and waited for me to come up. 

" You are out late/' he said, as I passed. 
I made a brief rejoinder, as, although I 
wanted to get a glimpse of him, I had no 
desire to enter into conversation. He seemed 
to guess my intention, for he stepped im- 
mediately into the middle of the path, 

" By Jove ! n he crkd } " I know who you 
are. Your name is Gilchrist — you are a 
special chum of the governor's; you came to 
the Manor to-day/' 

1 glanced at him : his features were 
dark and aquiline — in that particular not 
unlike Sir John Tregenna's, but they were 
much bloated, as if by constant dissipation. 
I could imagine that the fellow drank like a 
fish. His clothes were seedy and vulgar in 
style — his lips thin and cruel, his eyes too 
closely set together. 

l( Good old boy, Sir John," he said, after 
a pause; ** if you don't wish to make the 

most confounded 
mischief, you will 
keep this interview 
dark as far as your 
host is concerned." 
I was silent The 
man continued to 
fix me with his 
evil eyes. 

11 1 speak for 
Lady Tregenna's 
sake, }J he said 
again, after a very 
sign ifi cant pause, 
11 She will find her- 
self in a nice 
scrape if anything 
happens to make 
me turn up rough. 
1 don't think I 
need add any 
more. Goodnight 
to you." 

He vanished 
down a side-path, 
and I slowly re- 
t u rned to the 
Manor, Nothing 
happened of any 
importance during 

Di AM ON^;^Qriginalf the remainder of 




my visit, nor did I see Dayrell Tregenna 
again, I returned to London after a week's 
visit, and being much occupied, had little 
time to devote to the mysterious subject 
of Lady Tregenna and the heir. A year 
passed away, when one day I received a letter 
from her. It was worded as follows : — 

11 E>ear Mr. Gilchrist, I am most anxious to 
see you. Sir John is in Scotland at present, 
but I have several friends staying in the 
house, and if you can make it possible to 
come to the Manor for a couple of nights, I 
can promise that you will not have a lonely 
time. Come if you possibly can* 

" Yours sincerely, Kate Tregenna," 

In reply to this letter I sent off a telegram. 

"Expect me to-morrow," I wired. 

The next day at an early hour I started for 
Cornwall, and arrived at the Manor in the 

l^ady Tregenna was in the garden, a very 
small child was toddling by her side; he was 
clinging on to one of her fingers, and looking 
up now and then into her face< The moment 
she saw me she placed him sitting on the 
grass and came forward quickly. 

11 It is good of you to come," she 
said. As she spoke she made an effort 
to smile. I could scarcely refrain from 
uttering an exclamation , so shocked was 
I at the change in her appearance. There 
were heavy shadows under her eyes, the 
eyes were now much too big for the face, 
the face was worn to emaciation. When 
I touched the hand which she offered 
me it burned as 
though its owner 
was consumed by 
inward fever. 

41 It is good of 
you to come," she 
repeated ; n if my 
husband were 
here he would 
thank you." 
14 1 am pleased to 
be of the slightest 
service to you/" I 
replied. *' Is that 
the little fellow ? 
How much he 
has grown ! " 

" He is a very 
strong boy," she 
answered— sh c 
turned her head 

somewhat wearily in the direction of the lad, 
and then looked away again. 

The child came toddling towards her, 

Vol. xii. 

stretching out both his arms, She did not 
offer to lift him up, but again extended one 
of her fingers, which he clasped. 

At this moment the same nurse whom I 
had seen a year ago came into view- Her 
face also had undergone a remarkable change 
for the worse. It was always a hard face, 
dark, with compressed lips, but now it was 
much lined and looked too old for her evident 
years — she glanced uneasily first at her 
mistress, then at me, and finally at the boy. 
When she looked at the boy I saw a peculiar 
expression pass like a flash over her features. 
She bent down, caught the child in her arms, 
kissed him with a passion which I had never 
seen the mother evince, and carried him 

" He really is a very fine little chap," I 
said. " His father must he proud of him," 

11 Sir John is wrapped up in him, Mr 
Gilchrist," replied Lady Tregenna; " but, 
come, I have plenty to say to you on that 
head in a moment or two. First let me offer 
you a cup of tea*" 

" Thank you,' 1 I answered. 

She led me on to the same small lawn 


where we had tea together a 
year back* As she poured out 
tea, I noticed once again her 
hollow laugh, her aspect, which 
was that of a woman stricken 
with deadly illness, 

( ' Forgive me," I said, sud- 
denly, " you are very unwell ? " 

41 I am — sometimes I think I am dying/' 
she answered Sire pressed her hand to her 




heart " The burden is too heavy," she 
continued, " I must share it with someone 
— you have come in answer to my summons ; 
I mean to confide in you. Will you follow 
me now to my morning-room ; we shall be 
safe from interruption there ? " 

She rose as she spoke, and walked across 
the lawn. I followed. We entered a beauti- 
fully decorated little room off one of the big 
drawing-rooms. She seated herself in a low 
chair, and asked me to find a place near. 

" Rest assured," I said, as I did so, " that 
my services are at your disposal." 

" Before I take you into my full con- 
fidence," said Lady Tregenna, "I have a 
request to make." 

" Ask anything," I answered. 

" I want you to promise that you will 
not divulge what I am about to tell you until 
I give you permission." 

I thought for a moment, then I said, 
slowly : " I will respect your secret." 

"Thank you." She raised her eyes and 
looked full at me. " You know a part of my 
trouble," she continued, " you shall now hear 
the whole." 

" I know a part of your trouble ? " I said. 
"I don't quite understand." 

" You will in a moment. Do you remember 
the cablegram which your friend, Dr. Collett, 
sent you to Madras ? " 

" Of course," I replied, gravely. 

" Mr. Gilchrist, it was true." 

" True ? " I answered, springing to my 

" Yes, quite true. Now, sit down and let 
me tell you everything quietly. I must tell 
my story in my own way, and I must begin 
at the beginning." 

I sat down as Lady Tregenna had re- 
quested. She clasped her hands in her lap ; 
two bright spots appeared on either cheek. 
She looked even more ill than she had done 
a moment ago. 

" We were married ten years," she began, 
in a low, monotonous voice. " We came to 
the conclusion that we should never have a 
child. Sir John became more and more 
discontented. He had hours when a strange 
excitement seized him, more particularly 
when he was tortured by the presence of 
the cousin, whom he so cordially detests, 
Dayrell Tregenna. My husband loathed him 
for his want of tact and his constant refer- 
ence to the time when the place should be 

" At last, over two years ago, I found, to 
my inexpressible joy, that I was about to 
become a mother. My husband's raptures 

were beyond words. He meant to stay with 
me, but the expedition during which you first 
made his acquaintance had been already 
arranged — he was the principal member of 
the party, and found it impossible to resign 
his post. He had to leave me, to his own 
inexpressible anxiety. When he went away 
he was a happy man and I was a happy 
woman — buoyed up by the sweetest hope. 
Afterwards " 

" Tell me everything," I said, gently. 

She pressed her hand to her forehead and 
continued : — 

" The child was born in London. I was 
very ill at its birth, and for some time after- 
wards was unconscious. When I came to 
my senses all was quiet in the sick room. 
The nurse whom I had engaged was standing 
by the bed-side — she held a beautifully- 
dressed baby in her arms. I remembered 
then what had happened and raised my head. 
A rush of joy ran through my heart 

" ' Show me the child,' I said. 'Is it a 

" c Yes, madam, it is a boy,' she replied ; 
she bent down as she spoke and showed me 
the little fellow— then at a sign from me she 
laid it by my side. I kissed it, and was happy 
as mother could be. 

" ' Has Sir John been cabled to yet ? ' I 

" She replied to this that Mr. Dayrell was 
in the house, and only waited for my authority 
to send a cablegram immediately. 

"'Tell him to do so without an instant's 
delay,' I answered. 

"There was something in her manner 
which made me wonder even then. It was 
grave, anxious : she looked as if a load had 
been suddenly put upon her ; but I was so 
delighted, so full of bliss at having a living 
child of my own, that I had no more thoughts 
to spare for her. I spent the greater part of 
that night with the child in my arms. I 
made a quick recovery, but was astonished to 
see that Dr. Collett no longer attended me. 
Another very excellent physician came to 
see me, however, and I did not suspect the 

" When the boy was about a fortnight old, 
and I was up again on the sofa, the nurse 
came to me one day and confessed what had 
really happened. A few moments after the 
birth of my baby Dr. Collett had become 
seriously unwell — he had been obliged to 
hurry away, leaving the case with the nurse. 
When he left the house the baby had shown 
signs of weakness and want of proper circu- 
lation — he thought its life might be saved, 

e tnoiiRtu its me mig 




however, and intended to return again 
within half an hour. As a matter of fact, 
ten minutes after Di\ Collett left the 
house the child died. The nurse sent a 
hasty message to the doctor telling him that 
the child was dead. Two hours after doing 
so she was startled by getting a message her- 
self from the great physician's house to say 
that he had died 
suddenly, and that 
another doctor 
must take up the 

" Dayrell, who 
had spent the 
entire day in the 
house, was pacing 
up and down in 
the drawing-room 
when she ran in 
to tell him what 
had occurred. 

"'This will kill 
Sir John Tre 
genna,' he said. 

"'And Lady 
Tregenna> for that 
matter,' replied 
the woman ; i they 
built so much on 
the child/ 

" He looked at her for a long time, she said 
then, and did not speak. Then he came up 
to her side and began to whisper a plan which 
he said had suddenly darted through his 

" l You are not well off ? * he began, 

" She owned that she was not ; also, that 
she had a child of her own, a lame child, who 
depended altogether on her exertions to 
support it. 

" * Vou shall stay on here, at a high salary, 
as the child's nurse/ he said. 

* lc The child's nurse, Mr. Dayrell? You 
forget that the child is dead/ she answered. 

(t He held up his hand to stop her, 

4t * And I will give you five hundred pounds 
in addition if you help me,' he continued. 

" He then proposed to her to conceal the 
fact of the child's death from me for the 
present, but to cable to Sir John that he was 
the father of a fine boy, and to substitute a 
living child in the dead baby's place. He 
knew, he said, where he could easily find a 
baby. The fact of Dr, Collett's death would 
make the certificate of birth wonderfully 
simple. He would undertake that the dead 
child should be disposed of without remark. 

" This scheme was carried into effect by 


the pair : and when I was made acquainted 
with the fact, I had been lavishing my 
affection on the l>aby of a strange woman for 
over a fortnight. What my feelings were 
when this revelation was made to me I 
cannot attempt to describe. I was speech- 
less. The child of another woman lay on 
my knee. It was with difficulty that I could 

even bring myself 
to look at it. As 
I paused and con- 
sidered, my heart 
beating hard, my 
emotions almost 
suffocating me, the 
nurse's eyes fixed 
with the keenest 
anxiety on my 
face, there came 
a knock at the 
door and Dayrell 

" ' I know every- 
thing,' he said, 
* Now, I^dy Tre- 
genna f you won't 
be a fool; you 
want an heir — 
your husband 
wants an heir. If 

he believes you to 
be the mother of his child, he will love you 
as he has never loved you yet. The heir 
lies on your lap — he pointed to the baby as 
be spoke— 'and,' he added, in a significant 
manner, ( my silence can he bought? 

41 1 was too weak to resist him and the 
nurse ; in short* I yielded to the nefarious 
scheme. From that hour my misery began. 
Dayrell has blackmailed me to a frightful 
extent. I have sold all my jewels to satisfy 
his demands. I have parted with the large 
allowance which Sir John gives me. I have 
further asked my husband for large sums of 
money; he is a wealthy man, and up to the 
present suspects nothing. I have even gone 
to the length of borrowing largely {at this 
moment I am heavily in debt), and all to 
quiet that monster who feeds himself upon 
tny wretchedness. The nurse and the man 
knew the truth. They promise secrecy only 
so long as I can supply their inordinate 
desire for money* The woman gets a hun- 
dred a year, in addition to heavy bribes. I 
have paid Dayrell thousands of pounds since 
the birth of the child. As to Sir John, he 
suspects nothing. He is wrapped up in the 
child, and of late it is with difficulty I can 

get I.W^EfelffT^Hfeif ld interests " 



scientific pursuits. I never saw anything 
like his passion for the baby. He can 
scarcely talk of anything else. Several 
times a day he visits him in his nursery, 
he takes him about the grounds on his 
shoulders — the child and the man are in- 
separable. I believe if he knew the truth 
now, that his reason would fail him. In- 
sanity, at rare intervals, has been known in 
his family, and he is very excitable. Day- 
rell's presence at such a moment might lead 
to terrible results. 

" On the day my husband went rather 
unexpectedly to Scotland, that wretch came 
to me and demanded two thousand pounds. 
He said he required the money for a special 
emergency, and if I did not give it to him, 
would write a letter to Sir John telling him 
the whole story, and would abscond himself. 
I could only raise that sum by selling the 
family diamonds, which my husband would 
immediately miss. Mr. Gilchrist, was there 
ever a woman in such a terrible position as I 
am in ? " 

" You must on no account give that man 
any more money," I said, after a pause. 
"I confess I cannot see, at this moment, 
how to save you without communicating 
the truth to Sir John, but I should like to 
think over matters. This blackmailing must 
be stopped at any cost. On the face of it, 
it seems to me a queer thing that Dayrell 
Tregenna should wish to substitute a living 
child for your dead one, when he himself is 
the next heir to the property." 

11 Yes, but he and my husband are very 
much the same age, and my husband's is in 
reality a better life than his. Then he is 
penniless, or nearly so — he has married 
beneath him and has a large family. At 
intervals he has dreadful bouts of drinking — 
in fact, he is a bad fellow all round." 

"You think, then, that he concocted the 
scheme for the sole purpose of making 
money ? " 

" I am certain of it. But his last demand 
is the most outrageous he has yet made. 
The fact is this, I can stand the strain no 
longer ; I am getting seriously ill — my 
resources are at an end. And yet I am 
certain that if my husband discovers the Iri^h 
he will turn me out of his house ! Oh, my 
wretched life ! I often long to commit suicide 
in order to end everything." 

" You must have patience, and allow me if 
possible to act for you now," I said. " It 
has been my privilege to get people put of 
scrapes nearly as bad as yours before now. 
I am glad you have had courage to tell me 

the exact truth — I will think things over 
carefully, and will have a talk with you to- 

That night, to my astonishment and 
disgust, Dayrell Tregenna was one of the 
guests at dinner. He showed in his most 
objectionable form, put on airs as though he 
was master of the establishment, and I could 
see disgusted more than one of the guests. 
Lady Tregenna never noticed him by word 
or deed. The whole party retired early to 
bed, and I spent an anxious and wakeful 

The next morning I rose at an early hour, 
but when I went downstairs I was still com- 
pletely in the dark as to how to act. As I 
entered the stately old hall I was much 
astonished to see standing on the threshold, 
looking exactly as if he had never left home, 
the well-known figure of Sir John Tregenna. 
He heard my step, for he turned eagerly. 

" Gilchrist, of all people !" he cried. " Well, 
how are you ? I am right glad to see you. 
Yes, I have returned unexpectedly ; the wife 
does not know yet that I am in the house, 
but I have just sent a message to the nurse 
to bring the boy down. By the way, what 
do you think of my heir now, eh ? " 

" He has made fine progress," I answered ; 
" he walks all alone — he seems a well-grown 
little chap." 

At that moment the nurse appeared at the 
end of a long corridor, the boy toddling by 
her side. The moment the child saw his 
supposed father he uttered a shriek of delight 
and ran forward. The Baronet forgot all about 
me and hurried to meet him. He came back 
again after a moment, his own face crimson, 
his eyes shining, the boy elevated on his 
shoulder. It was just then that I noticed 
something ; something which I had com- 
pletely failed to observe when I had seen the 
baby a year ago. The child now bore an 
unmistakable and very striking likeness to 
the Tregennas — the eyes were in expression, 
although not in colour, the exact counterpart 
of the eager eyes of the man who was look- 
ing up at him with such pride and delight — 
the mouth also bore a likeness to Lady Tre- 
genna — but the boy's eyes and smile, and the 
sturdy way he held his head on his broad 
shoulders, were an exact replica of Sir John. 

The moment I made this discovery there 
flashed through my mind a possible solution 
of the mystery. Sir John was so absorbed 
in talking to the boy, in kissing him, and 
examining his sturdy limbs, that he did not 
notice anything I did or said. I went quickly 
in the direction where the nurse was standing. 




" I am anxious to have a word with you," 
I said. 

She looked at me — a queer expression 
came into her dark eyes ; her mouth closed 

u I should like to speak to you now," I 

"Certainly, sir, " she answered, in a sub- 
missive voice. 

"Alone/' I continued, 

"Yes, sir, JJ she said, again. She turned 
slowly 3 walked down the corridor, and opened 
a side door which led into 
a shrubbery. 

" No one will disturb us 
here, sir," she said " Will 
you please say what you 
have come to say quickly, 
as I am anxious to go to 
attend on my mistress," 

" I want to ask you a 
straight question/' I said. 
" I had an interview with 
Lady Tregenna yesterday, 
in which she told me what 
she believes to be the true 
history of the child- What 
is your name, nurse ? " 

" Mrs. Hodgkins, sir," 

* Well, Mrs, Hodgkins," 
I continued, " I have my 
own private reasons for 
believing that Lady Tre- 
genna's version is no: the 
correct one." 

"Good heavens, Mr, 
Gilchrist, what can you 
mean ? " 

The woman had great 
control over herself, but in 
spite of all her efforts her 
face turned a queer colour. 

" The whole story is very 
strange and inexplicable/' I 
continued. "Under ordi- 
nary circumstances, it would 
be my duty to tell it to Sir John Tregenna, 
and to ask him to bring a detective down from 
London to find out full particulars. For 
instance, before believing the version which 
you and Mr. Tregenna palmed off upon Lady 
Tregenna, there are some questions to be 
answered. Where was the real baby to whom 
Lady Tregenna gave birth buried ? Where 
did you find the child who has been adopted 
in its place ? Speak at once, and tell me the 

" Now, what is all this about ? " said 
another voice in our ears. 


I turned quickly* and to my annoyance saw 
Dayrell standing before me. He looked more 
bloated and more disreputable than ever. 

" I thought, Gilchrist, you were up to mis- 
chief, by the expression on your face last 
night," he said, "so, all things considered, I 
resolved to get up early and have a chat with 
you before breakfast. I find you in conver- 
sation with Mrs, Hodgkins, What does it 
mean ? J? 

u Iam talking with Mrs. Hodgkins over a 
private matter, and I should be glad if 
you would leave us," I 

ik I shall do nothing of 
the kind," he replied. He 
placed his feet far apart and 
crossed his arms, 

" You can remain or not, 
as you please," I continued. 
" After all, what I have got 
to say may interest you as 
well as this woman. Sir 
John Tregenna lias just re- 
turned, and is at present 
with his supposed heir," 

The man's face assumed 
an ugly look. 

" Sir John back so soon ? " 
he said, "I did not think 
he was expected for another 

(t He is here — I have just 
spoken to him'," 

" And what do you mean 
by making use of the ex- 
pression * his supposed 
heir } ? " continued Dayrell. 
11 Because, Mr, Tregenna, 
I-ady Tregenna has told me 
everything from her point 
of view. Now listen, both 
of you. 1 1 is in v firm con- 
viction that she has been 
deceived. If I do not get at 

the truth at once I shall n 

Day! ell interrupted me with a laugh, 
u So you are trying that little game on," he 
said ; " very clever of you, no doubt, but 
you won't get anything out of me> try as you 

u I will tell you all you desire to know, 
sir," said the nurse, suddenly. 

At these unexpected words Dayrell's 
countenance changed. He turned and faced 
her. He gave the woman a look under 
which she quailed for a moment, but presently 
she drew herself up and spoke with defiance 




Dayrell/ 1 she said. £l The fact is, I cannot 
bear this thing any longer. Yes, sir," she 
continued, turning to me, "it was all his 
doing, I am glad you have spoken to me, 
sir, I am glad to be able to relieve my 
conscience. I see the thing is killing Lady 
Tregenna, and the misery I have endured 
since the child's birth no words can toll. 
Sir, I will tell you everything now." 

Day-roll made a step forward as if he 
meant to strike her. 

H Stand back," I said, getting between him 


Now speak, and quickly," 

this way. 

have had 

When I 

and the nurse. 
I continued* 

"Well, Mr. Ciilehrist, it was in 
lama widow with one child, and 
hard work to earn my livelihood, 
came to nurse Lady Tregenna, I happened to 
meet Mr. Dayrell once or twice before the 
birth of the child. He spoke to me, and 
expressed his disgust at the possibility of an 
heir being born. The child came into the 
world T and fine baby that he was, for a short 
time there were doubts entertained of his 
life. Dr. Collett, as you know, had to 
leave the house shortly after the birth, owing 
to the illness which so unexpectedly carried 
him off. Almost immediately after his de- 
parture Mr. Dayrell came to me and asked 
how the child was. I told him he was in a 
bad case, but I thought he would revive— I 
then hurried back to attend to him. In an 
hour after the birth the child was breathing 
freely, and all danger had passed. I saw that 
he would live and do well, I was engaged 

attending him and his mother, when there 
came another knock at the door — I opened 
it 3 and that villain stood without He called 
me into the passage, and there offered me the 
temptation to which I yielded. He would 
pay me five hundred pounds down if I would 
act on his suggestion, and send a message to 
Dr. Collett that the child had died. I believe 
his first idea was to send the living child 
away and substitute a dead baby in his place, 
which he was confident he could procure. 
I was frightened and miserable. I wanted 

the money badly, 
and before I knew 
what I was doing, 
consented to his 
horrible sugges- 
tion, 1 sent a 
message to the 
doctor to say that 
the child was 
dead, Almost im- 
mediately after- 
wards a telegram 
came from his 
house to inform 
me that Dr. Col- 
lett had died sud- 
denly himself, 
and that another 
physician would 
be sent in to at- 
tend on Lady 
Tregenna* It was 
immediately after 
hearing this piece 
of news that Mr. Dayrell completed his 
diabolical scheme. He saw that there was 
now no necessity to fetch another baby. Dr. 
Col left's death had simplified matters. When 
Lady Tregenna was sufficiently strong, she 
was to be told that the real baby had died 
and that another had been substituted in its 

4i £ As I can no longer inherit the property/ 
said Mr. Dayrell, 4 the only other thing left 
to me to do is to make money. I will make 
thousands out of that unlucky child* Her 
ladyship will believe that he is not her own, 
and I shall blackmail her to any extent. 1 

l< And he did so, sir, he did. He paid me, 
of course. He arranged also that Lady 
Tregenna was to give me one hundred 
pounds a year while 1 remained as nurse to 
the child — but, oh I no money was worth the 
misery I endured. I saw my beautiful 
mistress fading before my eyes. She tried 
hird, but she could not love the child whom 
she did not benete to be her own. At last I 




began to fear for her reason. Oh, things are 
as black as black can be, and now that 
wretch has had the audacity to ask her to 
give him two thousand pounds within a week. 
Oh, what is to be done ? " 

When she had finished speaking, the 
woman put up her handkerchief to her eyes 
and sobbed. I turned suddenly to address 
Dayreil, but he had disappeared. 

"Are you going to tell my mistress the 
truth, sir?" said the nurse, when she had 
recovered a little composure. " If you expose 
me I shall be sent to prison ; but, of course, 
I cannot expect you to be silent — I don't 
even know that I wish it" 

" Lady Tregenna must, of course, know 
the truth," I answered, " but the question is 
whether Sir John is to be informed or not. 
My own feeling is that it would be cruelty 
ever to tell this horrible plot to Sir John. 
We must remember that he has never 
doubted for a moment that the child is his 
own. Your confession will give immense 
relief to Lady Tregenna — and I think Dayreil 
for his own sake will consent to leave the 
country. If he does not do so, of course 
Sir John must be told. Now come with me 
at once to Lady Tregenna." 

Early as it was, Lady Tregenna was up 
and in her morning-room. I tapped at the 
door and was admitted at once, the nurse 
following me. The lady looked in some 
astonishment at us both. 

" Nurse," she said, " I have just been told 
that Sir John has returned, but I have not 
yet seen him. Why, what is the matter?" 
she added. li Is anything wrong with the " — 
she spoke with evident antipathy — " with the 

" No, madam, he, is perfectly well — he is 
with his father." 

The words had scarcely left her lips before 
a hurried sound was audible in the passage 
without, and the next moment Sir John 
burst into the room carrying the baby in his 

" Oh, God ! " he cried. " Oh, merciful God ! " 
He panted heavily as he spoke, his eyes 
looked wild ; he was by nature a red-faced 
man, but he was now white as death. 

" I have had the most awful shock," he 
continued. " Kate, what do you think has 
happened ? I returned early this morning, 
and was only waiting for you to wake to 
come and see you — of course, I had the 
little fellow with me. I was standing on the 
terrace in front of the house when I suddenly 
missed the child. I went to search for him, 
and by good luck or, rather, the intervention 

of Providence went into the engine-house. 
The dynamo machine was working, and, oh, 
God in Heaven ! what awful sight do you 
think my eyes rested upon ? There was that 
wretch Dayreil Tregenna-— he had the little 
chap in his arms — and what do you think he 
had done ? Removed the cover from the 
terminals ! The child was stretching out his 
hand to touch them. One touch would have 
killed him. With a cry, I sprang forward, 
and caught the boy in my arms just in time. 
I scarcely know what I am saying, this shock 
has unmanned me." 

The great, hearty man sank down into the 
nearest chair. He panted for breath — the 
child gazed at him in astonishment, then 
cuddled up into his arms, and raising one 
chubby hand stroked his cheek. 

" Dad," he said, in his baby voice. 

The strong likeness to his race came out 
once again in his manly little face. 

Lady Tregenna, who had been seated on 
the sofia, now rose slowly, her hands were 
clasped tightly behind her; she crept across 
the room looking like a woman who was 

"John," she said, "what have you done 
with— with Dayreil ? " 

" Ordered him never to show his face in 
this house again unless he wishes to be 
arrested on a charge of attempted murder," 
roared the Baronet " To think that he 
should have led that little fellow straight 
up to his death, and the look on his face 
— it was fiendish, there is no other word 
for it." 

Lady Tregenna leant against the wall. She 
panted, and her eyes began to dilate with 
untold horror. I felt that in another moment 
she might lose consciousness. 

" Look here, Tregenna," I exclaimed, 
" you may be truly thankful the boy has 
escaped, but he has escaped, remember, and 
is perfectly well. Now, I am something of 
a doctor, and I must ask you to take the 
child away. Look at your wife — see how 
agitated she is." 

" Why, Kate, old woman, has this been too 
much for you?" said Tregenna. He rose 
hastily, strode up to her, put his arms round 
her and kissed her. 

"I never thought you cared enough," he 
continued. " The fact is, you have puzzled 
me now and then ; but I see — of course, of 
course, it is all right — bless you, old woman, 
bless you." 

Lady Tregenna did not say a word. She 
did not even return her husband's embrace. 

u Leave her a liicle," I said, " I am going 




to prescribe something which will give her 
relief, the shock has been very considerable/ 3 

" Would you like to keep the boy, Kate ? T> 
said the Baronet. 

" No, take him, John," she answered, 
in a voice which could not rise above a 

He left the room, with the lad mounted on 
his shoulder. The hearty laugh of the baby 
was heard as the two went down the long 
corridor together* 

" How can I confess the truth to him ? " 
gasped l.ady Tregenna, when the door had 
closed behind the pair, u When he knows 
the truth it will kill him — it will kill him or 
drive him mad," 

is the child to whom you gave birth. 
Nurse, tell your story in half-a-dozen words." 

The woman did so. 

Lady Tregenna listened at first with 
incredulity, her face like death. Then 
gradually but slowly hope began to chase 
away despair from her features, and a burst 
of tears came to her relief, 

"My God, I thank Thee ! " she cried, 
suddenly. "Oh, I can love the child now." 

She went on her knees and covered her 
face with her shaking hands. 

We finally agreed that it was unnecessary 
for Sir John Tregenna ever to know the 
awful trick which had been played upon his 


" He knows the truth already/' I answered, 
in a quiet voice, 

"He knows the truth ? " she repeated. 

" Yes. Now try and listen quietly, Lady 
Tregenna, You were the victim of a 
terrible hoax. That child is your own child. 
He never died — he never was changed— he 

wife. Dayrell, after his fiendish attempt to 
lure the heir to his destruction, left the 
country^ at once and for ever. As to the 
nurse, she received a month's wages in lieu 
of notice, but the prickings of her own 
conscience were the only other punishment 
accorded to her. 

by Google 

Original from 

"Animal" Furniture. 

By William G. Fitzgerald. 

E have all seen hunting trophies 
— for the most part mournful- 
looking heads — mounted in 
monotonous fashion and set 
up as ornaments in country 
houses ; but he was really a 
14 dreffle smart man " who first thought of 
adapting these trophies to e very-day use- 
turning them, in fact, into articles of furniture. 
Fancy lounging into the entrance-hall of a 
country mansion after a long ramble, and 
throwing your hat on the horn of a rhinoceros^ 
which identical horn was once half buried in 
the writhing body of your host ! And in 
saying this, I have a certain country seat 
in my mind. I also recall a titled lady who 
occasionally wears a necklace of gold-mounted 
bear's claws, which correspond exactly with a 
number of fright- 
fuMooking scars 
on her noble 
husband's back. 
Then, again, in 
the beautiful 
home of one of 
out greatest big 
game hunters 
there maybe seen 
at this moment 
a superb tiger set 
up as a dumb 
— very dumb — - 
waiter. That 
same tiger, how- 
ever, wasn't al- 
ways so obliging, 
and he once 
nearly tore to 
pieces the very 
man he now 
stiffly supplies 
with a glass of 
grog and a cigar. 
But look at this 
photo. t and you 
will instantly 
realize what I am 
trying to convey. 
This obsequious- 
looking bear was 
shot in Russia 
by no less a per- 
sonage than the 

Vol. xiL— 36* 


Prince of Wales ; and for years it has 
"waited" meekly in the smoking-room at 
Marlborough House, The setting-up of this 
bear was intrusted to Mr George F. Butt, 
F.Z.S., the eminent naturalist, of Wigmore 
Street, who has a perfect genius for trans- 
forming big game trophies into articles of 
furniture and general utility. From Mr. Butt 
1 learn that this particular branch of taxidermy 
is about thirty years old, its origin dating 
from the time when ladies adopted the hideous 
fashion of wearing as hats whole grouse and 
pheasants. In the " Sixties/' when this craze 
was at its height, the naturalists couldn't 
supply the birds fast enough — at four guineas 
each, ** More grouse were worn than were 
eaten," remarked Mr. Butt, gravely; "and 
not merely the wings, mark you, but the 

whole bird from 
head to tail" 

After these 
modish abomina- 
tions came tiger 
and bear claw 
jewellery, the no- 
tion of which was 
imported from 
India ; then fol- 
lowed various 
articles made 
from whole ani- 
mals and parts of 
animals. One of 
the earliest de- 
signs was a 
horse's hoof- 
that of a favourite 
charger — made 
into a silver- 
mounted ink- 
stand. Chairs 
were also made 
which were sup- 
ported by the 
four legs of a 
rhinoceros or 
zebra, or a favour- 
ite horse. 

But without 
doubt the most 
original "animal" 
chair I ever be- 
held was that 




E M 

■d^ 'B 

r ■" * f 1 

Br • i /■ 
B < . - IV Mijp dhB 

IBB? j | 


IB Jr~^ r ~ * ffSfiflE 


which belongs to that 
mighty Nimrod, Mr* J, 
Gardiner Muir, of "Hill- 
crest," Market Har- 
bo rough. This chair, as 
may he seen in the accom- 
panying reproduction, is 
made from a baby giraffe, 
which, with its mother, 
was shot by Mr, (lardiner 
Muir, near the Kiboko 
River, in British East 
Africa. The design is by 
Rowland Ward, of Picca- 
dilly. In the photograph 
will be noticed a little dog 
on the seat of the chair; 
tins is the hunter's little 
Scotch terrier, " Punch." 

It is quite astonishing 
to learn how many defunct 
animals are called upon 
to throw light upon things. 
I refer, of course, to 
animals converted into 
lamps, Some years ago a 
certain lady's pet monkey 

died, and, al- 
though her grief 
was great, she 
resolved to have 
her dead darling 
turned into some- 
thing useful as 
well as ornamen- 
tal In life that 
monkey had been 
active — tweaking 
the noses of digni- 
fied people who 
least expected it ; 
and the sorrowing 
mistress could n't 
bear to think of 
the poor little 
thing as a mere 
stuffed specimen 
grinning idiotic- 
ally beneath a 
glass case. There- 
fore was that pet 
monkey — which 
is seen in the 
next illustration 
— set up as a 
candle- holder, 
grasping in its 

r ^= ^^ 


f 1111 w^M 

■ 1ft m 





holding cand; 

little fists the polished 
brass sconces, and with 
quite an eager, officious 

This set another fashion, 
and before long a West- 
end firm (Messrs. Williams 
and Bach, of New Bond 
Street) was doing a roaring 
trade in animal and bird 
lamps. The designs of 
many of these are remark- 
ably ingenious. Here is 
another monkey lamp, in 
the design of which two 
active little fellows are 
supposed to be frolicking 
together, the topmost 
monkey bearing the oil- 
well after the manner of 
Atlas, with his tail coiled 
around the cross-bar, while 
^ahka. ''T^yfiRellowis scrambling 





up the pillar as though anxious to share 
the burden and the fun. 

For some reason, innumerable monkeys 
were sold to light up billiard-rooms, the 
little animals swinging from a hoop with 
one hand and carrying the lamp in the 
other. After a lime people other than 
those who had dead pet monkeys wanted 
to possess these unique lamps, so that 
defunct simians from the Zoo had to 
be eagerly bought up, and Mr, Jamraeh, 
the famous wild beast importer, was vexed 
with orders for dead monkeys. Later on 
less uncommon pets — parrots and cocka- 
toos — were utilized in a similar manner, 
and at length this latter form of the 
craze reached preposterous dimensions, 
Will it be believed that the Bond Street 
house (I have it on the authority of the 
manager) had actually to keep a stock of 
live parrots and cockatoos, so that aristo- 
cratic customers could select one for a 
swinging lamp? After selection, the 
doomed bird was sent along to the 
taxidermist, killed immediately, and then 
mounted in the style chosen. The 
parrots swung in brass hoops with out- 
spread wings, and carried the lamps on 

their back ; whilst cockatoos were (£ chained n 
to a perch. Oh ! Fashion ! what cruelties 
are perpetrated in thy name! 

Of course the idea of turning into useful 
articles pets that have died from natural 
causes or old age is at once ingenious and 
praiseworthy. Here, for example, is a fruit 
and flower stand made by Mr. Geo. F. Butt 
for the Princess of Wales ; it is now at 
Sandringham. The centre is a movable 
screen composed of a favourite parrot 
belonging to Her Royal Highness. 

Next is shown a beautiful fire-screen, also 
made by Mr. Butt for the Countess of Mayo, 
It is composed of a giant argus pheasant, 
which was shot by the late Earl at Singapore, 
only a short time before his own assassina- 

The emu and swan lamps, photos, of which 
are reproduced on the next page, were made to 
the order of a wealthy Australian gentleman. 
The effect of the former in a drawing-room is 
curiously striking, but the latter is designed 
for a table lamp. The swan — a magnificent 
coat- black bird — rests upon a large mirror, so 
as to give the impression that the stately 
creature is floating on some placid lake. 

GULflT AR&U1 1-KtfKMIf |EUH4V9m ** A HKE : CREK*# 





The moment the door is opened aL 
Baroness Eckhardstem's beautiful house in 
Grosvenor Square, this gigantic and truly 
formidable bear is seen flooding the hall with 

a soft red light. This bear is one of the very 
largest ever seen in this country* It was 
shot during one of its fishing excursions 
in Alaska, and set up by Rowland Ward, 
who presented it to the Baroness on the 
occasion of her marriage. The electric light 
can be switched on from behind. I must 
acknowledge here, with gratitude, the courtesy 
of the Baroness Eckhardstein, who permitted 
us to pbotograph this amiable monster. 

Very quaint and ingenious is the letter- 
clip next shown. It is made from the 



beak of an albatross, and is a relic with a 
history. A year or two ago a certain fool- 
hardy individual set out (as many have done) 
to cross the Atlantic in a craft, little larger 
than an open boat. The adventurous voyager 
did eventually make New York Harbour, but 
he was in a pitiable state of exhaustion. It 
transpired that before he had been many days 
at sea, he was attacked by an enormous 
albatross, which bird, one would think, was 
aware of the dangerous nature of the whole 





undertaking, and so commenced an unpro- 
voked onslaught. The bird was shot, however, 
and its head ultimately brought to Mr, Butt 
to make up the beak as we see it here. 
Doubtless that mariner is still reminded of his 
lonely fight in mid-ocean every time he files 
a letter. 

This "tiger chair" is a capital example ot 
"animal" lurmture. The seat is covered 
with the beautifully marked skin, arid the 
head and paws are so arranged as to give the 
impression that the terrible animal is about 
to spring. Observe the ingenious way in 
which the tail is disposed, as though the tiger 
were coiled right round the chair. This chair 


(rafcSICSNFD UV SIR EDWIN landseerX 

was made by Mr. Butt for a gentle- 
man in the Indian Civil Service, and 
it is particularly interesting from the 
fact that the tiger was a dreaded 
man-eater, which had devastated 
and appalled several villages in 
Travancore. The day it was shot, 
this brute t:nmt: into a village in 
search of a dainty meal, and suc- 
ceeded in carrying off a little white 
girl, ten years of age. This child 
was afterwards rescued, but she was 
so shockingly lacerated that she died 
the same night in the house of a 
missionary doctor. 

The next photograph reproduced 
here depicts a novel hat-stand, 
which adorns the entrance-hall at 
[.angley Park, Slough, the beautiful 
seat of Sir Robert Harvey, Bart 
It consists entirely of horns selected 
from stags shot in Invennark Forest, 
Forfarshire, by the present baronet 
and his father, during a ten years' 
tenancy. The design is copied from 

>M$m mm of this great 



landsekr's trophies— sir edwin's '* otter" chaih in the centre. 

artist brings us to 
another item of 
"animal" furniture — 
Land seer's u otter " 
chair, which is seen 
in the next illustra- 
tion. Surrounding 
the chair are some 
heads — those of a 
favourite dog, a Scotch 
stag, a wild Chilling- 
ham bull, and an 
American bison— the 
three last shot by the 
painter himself. Land- 
seer always admired 
otter skins, so a friend 
one day presented him 
with several very fine 
ones. These were sub- 
sequently spread on 
the chair by Mr, Butt, 
the head of the largest 
otter hanging down 
over the back in 

accordance with Landseer's 
own design. 

In the house of a big 
game hunter you will come 
across all sorts of trophies, 
doing duty in various capa- 
cities. Here we see t\*c leg 

elephant's foot AS LIQUEUR stand* 


of an ostrich mounted as 
a door-stop. Stranger still, 
we next behold the foot of 
a big elephant fashioned 
into a liqueur stand, so that 
it may be placed on the 
table in the midst of 
a group in reminiscent 
mood, Ninirods who 
may, perchance, be 
fighting their battles 
over again. This is 
one of Mr, Rowland 
Ward's registered de- 
signs. The foot is 
that of an Indian ele- 
phant—a magnificent 
beast — shot by the 
then Duke of Edin- 
burgh, during a well- 
known tour/ 

Very large elephant 
feet, by the way, are 
coveted trophies, and 
are, moreover, interest- 
ing indications of the 
height of their late 
possessor, twice the 
circumference of the 
forefoot giving the 
height of the elephant 
lal ftfcmthe shoulder. 





Strictly speaking, though, this rule 
applies more particularly to the 
Indian species. 

Not the least interesting among 
the items of ** animal" furniture 
that have come under my notice 
was a certain letter-box in a country 
house. The top part consisted of 
the skull of a once -notorious 
leopard, which had decimated great 
herds of cattle in its day, and re- 
quired a vast deal of killing. 
Record skulls of lions, tigers, and 
leopards are very frequently seen 
mounted as useful objects in the 
country houses of wealthy hunters. 
Here, for instance, is a hall-clock 
firmly grasped between the jaws 
of a tiger which killed at least five 
unlucky Hindu gun-bearers, whose 
cowardice cost them their lives. 

To merely catalogue the various 
items of M animal 3 ' furniture I have 
seen would fill whole pages of The 
Strand Magazine, I have been 
shown ugly-looking u knobkerries," 
fashioned by natives 

horns of the rhinoceros. There are 
seooped-out pheasants as pie-covers ; the 
eggs of emus and ostriches as basins and 
jugs ; hares' heads as matchboxes ; flying 
opossums holding card -trays; coiling 
snakes as umbrella-stands ; capercailzie 
claws as candlesticks ; wild asses' ears as 
tobacco-pouches ; hippopotamus skulls 
as arm-chairs; foxes' heads as tooth pick 
stands; elk and wapiti legs supporting 
tables ; panthers hugging satin - lined 
waste-paper baskets; flamingoes holding 
electric lights in their beaks ; swans' 
necks as ink-bottles ; crocodiles (with 
very expansive smiles) as dumb waiters; 
and elephants as " cosy corners." 

The elephant here shown is not 
exactly a "cosy corner," but he forms 
quite a unique hall-porter's chair; at 
the same time, it would be somewhat 
invidious to speak of the thing as an 
"elephantine hall-porter's chair" — even 
though in some cases the description 
might be peculiarly appropriate. This 
accommodating animal is a young Ceylon 
elephant, modelled by Rowland Ward in 

f ™» ff g\ 






a perfectly natural 
position, but 
adapted for the 
use of the hall 
porter, The hall 
porter asleep in 
this singular 
chair, by the way, 
should make an 
interesting pic- 

The next photo, 
that has been re- 

produced here shows an extremely 
interesting and even beautiful table 
ornament, made from the tusks of 
Indian wild boars by Mr. Butt, of 
Wigmore Street It cost ^55, and 
the mountings are of silver. In this 
case, the tusks were forwarded by 
the adjutant of a crack regiment 
stationed in the North- West Pro- 
vinces. The officers of that regiment 
had indulged extensively in the noble 
pastime of pig-sticking, and had care- 
fully preserved the boars' tusks with 
the view of having them fashioned 
into some useful and handsome orna- 
ment which might adorn the mess- 
table, and serve (almost literally) as 
a peg on which to hang many an 
exciting story* 

The last piece of "animal " furni- 
ture depicted in this article is a 
capital specimen of Mr. Butt's artistic 
work — a bear set up as a dumb 
waiter, carrying in one hand, or rather 
paw, an electric 
lamp with frosted 
globe t and in the 
other a tray with a 
couple of boxes of 
cigars and some 
paper pipe-lights in 
a liqueur glass. 
Notice the excited 
appearance of the 
bear, who seems to 
be perpetually roar- 
ing at somebody, 
and doing his duty 
only under very 
forcible protest. 


"rfu £>ib°JOk °7 TftT^IpV^^ 1 "^ 

Bv Grant Allen. 

E went to Meran. The place 
was practically decided for us 
by Amelia's French maid, who 
really acts on such occasions 
as our guide and courier. 
She is such a clever girl, is 
Amelia's French maid. Whenever we are 
going anywhere, Amelia generally asks (and 
accepts) her advice as to choice of hotels 
and furnished villas, C^sarine has been all 
over the Continent in her time ; and, bein^ 
Alsatian by birth, she, of course, speaks 
German as well as she speaks French, while 
her long residence with Amelia has made 
her at last almost equally at home in our 
native English* She is a treasure, that girl ; 
so neat and dexterous, and not above dab- 
bling id anything on earth she may be asked 
to turn her hand to. She walks the world 
with a needle-case in one hand and an etna 
in the other- She can cook an omelette on 
occasion, or drive a Norwegian cariole ; she 
can sew, and knit, and make dresses, and 
cure a cold, and do anything else on earth 
you ask her Her salads are the most 
savoury I ever tasted ; while as for her coffee 
{which she prepares for us in the train on 
long journeys), there isn't a chef de cuisine at 
a West -end club to be named in the same 
dav with her, 
vat. *ii.-ae. 

So, when Amelia said, in her imperious 
way, " GJsarine, we want to go to the Tyrol 
— now — at — once — in mid -October ; where 
do you advise us to put up?" — C^sarine 
answered, like a shot, "The Erzherzog 
Johann, of course, at Meran, for the autumn, 

E4 Is he . P . . an archduke? 57 Amelia 
asked, a little staggered at such apparent 
familiarity with Imperial personages, 

ik Ma foil no, madame. He is an hotel 
— as you would say in England, the 'Victoria,* 
or the * Prince of Wales's'— the most com- 
fortable hotel in all South Tyrol ; and at this 
time of year, naturally, you must go beyond 
the Alps ; it begins already to be cold at 

So to Meran we went; and a prettier or 
more picturesque place, I confess, I have 
seldom set eyes on. A rushing torrent ; 
high hills and mountain peaks; terraced 
vineyard slopes; old walls and towers; 
quaint, arcade d streets ; a craggy waterfall ; 
a promenade after the fashion of a German 
Spa ; and when you lift your eyes from the 
ground, jagged summits of Dolomites : it was 
a combination such as I had never before 
beheld ; a Rhine town plumped down among 
green Alpine heights, and threaded by the 
cool colonnnde:3 of Italy, 




I approved Cesarine's choice ; and I was 
particularly glad she had pronounced for an 
hotel, where all is plain sailing, instead of 
advising a furnished villa, the arrangements 
for which would naturally have fallen in large 
part upon the shoulders of the wretched 
secretary, As in any case I have to do three 
hours' work a day, I feel that such additions 
to my normal burden may well be spared me. 
I tipped Cdsarine half a sovereign, in fact, for 
her judicious rhoice. Cesarine glanced at it 
on her palm in her mysterious, curious, half- 
smiling way, and pocketed it at once with a 
" Merci, monsieur ! " that had a touch of 


contempt in it I always fancy Cesarine has 
large ideas of her own on the subject of 
tipping, and thinks very small beer of the 
modest sums a mere secretary can alone 
afford to bestow upon her. 

The great peculiarity of Meran is the 
number of schlosses (1 believe my plural is 
strictly irregular, but very convenient to 
English ears) which you can see in every 
direction from its outskirts. A statistical eye, 
it is supposed, can count no fewer than forty 
of these picturesque, ramshackled old castles 
from a point on the Kiichelberg. For 
myself, I hate statistics (except as an 
element in financial prospect uses ), and I 
really don't know how many ruinous piles 
Isabel and Amelia counted under C^sarine's 
guidance; but I remember that most of them 


were quaint and beautiful, and that their 
variety of architecture seemed positively 
bewildering. One would be square, with 
funny little turrets stuck out at each angle ; 
while another would rejoice in a big round 
keep, and, spread on either side, long, ivy-clad 
walls and delightful bastions. Charles was 
immensely taken with them. He loves the 
picturesque, and has a poet hidden in that 
financial soul of his. (Very effectually hidden, 
though, I am ready to grant you,) From the 
moment he came, he felt at once he would 
love to possess a castle of his own among 
these romantic mountains. "Seldon!" he 
exclaimed, contemptuously. M They 
call Seldon a castle ! But you and 
I know very well, Sey, it was built 
in i860, with sham antique stones, 
for Macpherson of Seldon, at 
market rates, by Cubitt and Co., 
worshipful contractors of London, 
Macpherson charged me for that 
sham antiquity a preposterous 
price, at which one ought to 
procure a real ancestral mansion. 
Now, these castles are real. They 
are hoary with antiquity. Schloss 
Tyrol is Romanesque — tenth or 
eleventh century," (He had been 
reading it up in u Baedeker/') 
"That's the sort of place for me! 
— tenth or eleventh century. I 
could live here, remote from stocks 
and shares, for ever ; and in these 
sequestered glens, recollect, Sey, 
my boy, there are no Colonel Clays, 
and no arch Madame Picardets ! " 

As a matter of fact, he could 
have lived there six weeks ; and 
then tired for Park Lane, Monte 
Carlo, Brighton. 
As for Amelia, strange to say, she was 
equally taken with this new fad of Charles's. 
As a rule, she hates everywhere on earth save 
London, except during the time when no 
respectable person can be seen in town, and 
when modest blinds shade the scandalized 
face of Mayfair and Belgravia. She bores 
herself to death even at Seldon Castle, Ross- 
shire, and yawns all day long in Paris or 
Vienna* She is a confirmed Cockney. Yet, 
for some occult reason, my amiable sister-in- 
law Id! in love with South Tyrol. She wanted 
to vegetate in that lush vegetation. The grapes 
were being picked ; pumpkins hung over the 
walls ; Virginia creeper draped the quaint 
grey schlosses with crimson cloaks ; and every- 
thing was as beautiful as a dream of Burne- 
Jones's. (I knew llfrgflty quite right in men- 




tioning Bu me -J ones* especially in connection 
with Romanesque arehitccturej because I 
heard him highly praised on that very ground 
by our friend and enemy, Dr\ Edward Pol- 
perro.) So perhaps it was excusable that 
Amelia should fait in love with it all, under 
the circumstances ; besides, she is largely 
influenced by what Cesarine says, and Cesa- 
rine declares there is no climate in Europe 
like Meran in winter. I do not agree with 
her, The sun sets behind the hills at three 
in the afternoon, and a nasty, warm wind 
blows moist over the snow in January and 

However, Amelia set Cesarine to inquire 
of the people at the hotel about the market 
price of tumble-do wn ruins, and the number 
of such eligible family mausoleums just then 
for sale in the immediate neighbourhood. 
Cesarine returned with a full, true, and 
particular list, adorned with flowers of 


rhetoric which would have delighted the soul 
of good old John Robins* They were all 
picturesque, all Romanesque, all richly ivy- 
clad, all commodious, all historical, and all 
the property of high, well-born Grafs and very 
honourable Freiherrs, Most of them had 
been the scene of celebrated tournaments; 
several of them had witnessed the gorgeous 
marriages of Holy Roman Emperors; and 
every one of them was provided with some 
choice and selected first-class murders. 

Digitized by t_iOOQlC 

Ghosts could be arranged for or not, as 
desired ; and armorial bearings could be 
thrown in with the moat for a moderate 
extra remuneration. 

The two we liked best of all these tempt- 
ing piles were Schloss Planta and Schloss 
hebenstcin. We drove past both, and even 
I myself, I confess, was distinctly taken with 
them. (Beside^ when a big purchase like 
this is on the stocks, a poor beggar of a 
secretary has always a chance of exerting 
his influence and earning for himself some 
modest commission.) Schloss Planta was 
the most striking externally, I should say, 
with its Rhine -like towers, and its great, 
gnarled ivy - stems, that looked as if they 
antedated the House of Hapsburg ; but 
Lebenstein was said to be better preserved 
within, and more fitted in every way for 
modern occupation. Its staircase has been 
photographed by 7,000 amateurs. 

We got tickets 
to view* The 
Cesarine pro- 
cured them for 
us. Armed with 
these, we drove 
off one fine after- 
noon, meaning 
to go to Planta, 
by C Marine's re- 
Half-way there t 
however, w e 
changed our 
minds, as it was 
such a lovely 
day, and went 
on up the long, 
slow hill to Le- 
benstein* I must 
say the drive 
through the 
grounds was 
simply charming. 
The castle stands 
perched {say 
rather poised, like St* Michael the arch- 
angel in Italian pictures) on a solitary stack 
or crag of rock, looking down on every side 
upon its own rich vineyards. Chestnuts line 
the glens : the valley of the Etsch spreads 
below like a picture. 

The vineyards alone make a splendid 
estate, by the way ; they produce a delicious 
red wine, which is exported to Bordeaux, 
and there bottled and sold as a vintage 
claret tinder the p;ime of Chateau Monnivet 




Charles revelled in the idea of growing his 
own wines. 

" Here we could sit," he cried to Amelia, 
"in the most literal sense, under our own 
vine and fig-tree. Delicious retirement ! For 
my part, I'm sick and tired of the hubbub 
of Threadneedle Street." 

We knocked at the door — for there was 
really no bell, but a ponderous, old-fashioned, 
wrought-iron knocker. So deliriously mediae- 
val ! The late Graf Von Lebenstein had 
recently died, we knew ; and his son, the 
present Count, a young man of means, 
having inherited from his mother's family a 
still more ancient and splendid schloss in the 
Salzburg district, desired to sell this outlying 
estate in order to afford himself a yaoht, after 
the manner that is now becoming increasingly 
fashionable with the noblemen and gentlemen 
in Germany and Austria. 

The door was opened for us by a high, 
well-born menial, attired in a very ancient 
and honourable livery. Nice, antique hall ; 
suits of ancestral armour, trophies of Tyrolese 
hunters, coats of arms of ancient counts — 
the very thing to take Amelia's aristocratic 
and romantic fancy. The whole to be sold 
exactly as it stood ; ancestors to be included 
at a valuation. 

We went through the reception-rooms. 
They were lofty, charming, and with glorious 
views, all the more glorious for being framed 
by those graceful Romanesque windows, with 
their slender pillars and quaint, round-topped 
arches. Sir Charles had made his mind up. 
" I must and will have it ! " he cried. " This 
is the place for me. Seldon ! Pah, Seldon 
is a modern abomination." 

Could we see the high, well-born Count ? 
The liveried servant (somewhat haughtily) 
would inquire of his Serenity. Sir Charles 
sent up his card, and also Lady Vandrift's. 
These foreigners know title spells money in 

He was right in his surmise. Two minutes 
later the Count entered, with our cards in 
his hands. A good - looking young man, 
with the characteristic Tyrolese long black 
moustache, dressed in a gentlemanly variant 
on the costume of the country. His air was 
a jager's ; the usual blackcock's plume stuck 
jauntily in the side of the conical hat (which 
he held in his hand), after the universal 
Austrian fashion. 

He waved us to seats. We sat down. 
He spoke to us in French ; his English, he 
remarked, with a pleasant smile, being a 
nigligcable quantity. We might speak it, 
he went on : he could understand pretty 

well ; but he preferred to answer, if we 
would allow him, in French or German. 

" French," Charles replied, and the negotia- 
tion continued thenceforth in that language. 
It is the only one, save English and his 
ancestral Dutch, with which my brother-in- 
law possesses even a nodding acquaintance. 

We praised the beautiful scene. The 
Count's face lighted up with patriotic pride. 
Yes ; it was beautiful, beautiful, his own 
green Tyrol. He was proud of it and 
attached to it. But he could endure to 
sell this place, the home of his fathers, 
because he had a finer in the Salzkam- 
mergut, and a pied-a-terre near Innsbruck. 
For Tyrol lacked just one joy — the sea. He 
was a passionate yachtsman. For that, he 
had resolved to sell this estate; after all, 
three country houses, a ship, and a mansion 
in Vienna, are more than one man can com- 
fortably inhabit. 

"Exactly," Charles answered. "If I can 
come to terms with you about this charming 
estate, I shall sell my own castle in the 
Scotch Highlands." And he tried to look 
like a proud Scotch chief who harangues his 

Then they got to business. The Count 
was a delightful man to do business with. 
His manners were perfect. While we 
were talking to him, a surly person, a 
steward or bailiff, or something of the 
sort, came into the room unexpectedly and 
addressed him in German, which none of 
us understand. We were impressed by the 
singular urbanity and benignity of the noble- 
man's demeanour towards this sullen depefi- 
dent. He evidently explained to the fellow 
what sort of people we were, and remon- 
strated with him in a very gentle way for 
interrupting us. The steward understood, 
and clearly regretted his insolent air ; for 
after a few sentences, he went out, and as he 
did so he bowed and made protestations of 
polite regard in his own language. The 
Count turned to us and smiled. "Our 
people," he said, " are like your own Scotch 
peasants — kind-hearted, picturesque, free, 
musical, poetic, but wanting, hi las > in polish 
to strangers." He was certainly an exception, 
if he described them aright ; for he made us 
feel at home from the moment we entered. 

He named his price in frank terms. His 
lawyers at Meran held the needful documents, 
and would arrange the negotiations in detail 
with us. It was a stiff sum, I must say : an 
extremely stiff sum ; but no doubt he was 
charging us a fancy price for a fancy castle. 
" He will conic down in time," Charles said. 




" The sum first named in all these transac- 
tions is invariably a feeler. They know Pm 
a millionaire ; and people always imagine 
millionaires are positively made of money. " 

I may add that people always imagine 
it must be easier to squeeze money out of 
millionaires than out of other people— which 
is the reverse of the truth, or how could they 
ever have amassed their millions? Instead 
of oozing gold, as a tree oozes gum, they mop 
it up, like blotting-paper, and seldom give it 
out again, 

We drove back from this first interview 
none the less very well satisfied. The price 
was too high ; but preliminaries were arranged, 
and for the rest, the Count desired us to 
discuss all details with his lawyers in the 
chief street, Unter den I^auben. We in- 
quired about these lawyers, and found they 
were most respectable and respected men ; 
they had done the family business on either 
side for seven generations. 

They showed us plans and title- deeds. 
Everything quite en rbgk* Till we came to 
the price, there was no hitch of any sort. 

As to price, however, the lawyers were 
obdurate. They stuck out for the Count's 

said, "and they're playing the old game of 
trying to diddle me. But I won't be diddled* 
Except Colonel Clay ? no man has ever yet 
succeeded in bleeding me. And shall I let 
myself be bled as if I were a chamois 
among these innocent mountains ? Perish 
the thought ! n Then he reflected a little in 
silence* "Sey," he mused on, at last, N the 
question is, are they innocent? Do you 
know, I begin to believe there is no such 
thing left as pristine innocence anywhere. 
This Tyrolese Count knows the value of a 
pound as distinctly as if he hung out in 
Capel Court or Kimberley." 

Things dragged on in this way, inconclu- 
sively, for a week or two, fVe bid down ; 
the lawyers stuck to it Sir Charles grew 
half sick of the whole silly business. For my 
own part, I felt sure if the high, well-born 
Count didn't quicken his pace, my respected 
relative would shortly have had enough of 
the Tyrol altogether^ and be proof against the 
most lovely of crag-crowning castles. But 
the Count didn't see it. He came to call on 
us at our hotel— a rare honour for a stranger 
with these haughty and exclusive Tyrolese 
nobles— and even entered unannounced in 


first sum to the uttermost florin* It was a 
very big estimate. We talked and shilly- 
shallied till Sir Charles grew angry. He lost 
his temper at last. 

"They know I'm a millionaire, Sey," he 

the most friendly manner, But when it came 
to j£ s. d., he was absolute adamant. Not 
one kreutzer would he abate from his original 

**You misiinderr-iiand," he said, with pride. 




" We Tyrolese gentlemen are not shopkeepers 
or merchants. We do not higgle. If we 
say a thing we stick to it. Were you an 
Austrian, I should feel insulted by your ill- 
advised attempt to beat down my price. 
But as you belong to a great commercial 

nation " he broke off with a snort and 

shrugged his shoulders compassionately. 

We saw him several times driving in and 
out of the Schloss, and every time he waved 
his hand at us gracefully. But when we 
tried to bargain, it was always the same 
thing: he retired behind the shelter of his 
Tyrolese nobility. We might take it or leave 
it Twas still Schloss Lebenstein. 

The lawyers were as bad. We tried all we 
knew, and got no forrarder. 

At last, Charles gave up the attempt in 
disgust. He was tiring, as I expected. 
" It's the prettiest place I ever saw in my 
life," he said ; <4 but, hang it all, Sey, I won't 
be imposed upon." 

So he made up his mind, it being now 
December, to return to London. We met 
the Count next day, and stopped his carriage, 
and told him so. Charles thought this would 
have the immediate effect of bringing the 
man to reason. But he only lifted his hat, 
with the blackcock's feather, and smiled a 
bland smile. " The Archduke Karl is in- 
quiring about it," he answered, and drove 
on without parley. 

Charles used some strong words, which I 
will not transcribe (I am a family man), and 
returned to England. 

For the next two months, we heard little 
from Amelia save her regret that the Count 
wouldn't sell us Schloss Lebenstein. Its 
pinnacles had fairly pierced her heart 
Strange to say, she was absolutely infatuated 
about the castle. She rather wanted the 
place while she was there, and thought she 
could get it ; now she thought she couldn't, 
her soul (if she has one) was wildly set upon 
it Moreover, C^sarine further inflamed her 
desire by gently hinting a fact which she 
had picked up at the courier's table d'hdte at 
the hotel — that the Count had been far from 
anxious to sell his ancestral and historical 
estate to a South African diamond king. He 
thought the honour of the family demanded 
at least that he should secure a wealthy buyer 
of good ancient lineage. 

One morning in February, however, Amelia 
returned from the Row, all smiles and 
tremors. (She had been ordered horse- 
exercise to correct the increasing excessive- 
ness of her figure.) 

"Who do you think I saw riding in the 

Digiiiz&d by LiOOv IC 

Park ? " she inquired. " Why, the Count of 

" No ! " Charles exclaimed, incredulous. 

" Yes," Amelia answered. 

" Must be mistaken," Charles cried. 

But Amelia stuck to it. More than that, 
she sent out emissaries to inquire diligently 
from the London lawyers, whose name had 
been mentioned to us by the ancestral firm 
in Unter den Lauben as their English agents, 
as to the whereabouts of our friend ; and her 
emissaries learned in effect that the Count 
was in town and stopping at Morley's. 

" I see through it," Charles exclaimed. 
" He finds he's made a mistake ; and now, 
he's come over here to reopen negotiations." 

I was all for waiting prudently till the 
Count made the first move. " Don't let 
him see your eagerness," I said. But 
Amelia's ardour could not now be restrained. 
She insisted that Charles should call on the 
Graf as a mere return of his politeness in the 

He was as charming as ever. He talked 
to us with delight about the quaintness of 
London. He would be ravished to dine 
next evening with Sir Charles. He desired 
his respectful salutations meanwhile to Miladi 
Vandrift and Madame Ventvorth. 

He dined with us, almost en famille. 
Amelia's cook did wonders. In the billiard- 
room, about midnight, Charles reopened the 
subject. The Count was really touched. It 
pleased him that still, amid the distractions 
of the City of five million souls, we should 
remember with affection his beloved Leben- 

" Come to my lawyers," he said, " to- 
morrow, and I will talk it all over with you." 

We went — a most respectable firm in 
Southampton Row ; old family solicitors. 
They had done business for years for the 
late Count, who had inherited from his 
grandmother estates in Ireland ; and they 
were glad to be honoured with the confidence 
of his successor. Glad, too, to make the 
acquaintance of a prince of finance like Sir 
Charles Vandrift Anxious (rubbing their 
hands) to arrange matters satisfactorily all 
round for everybody. (Two capital families 
with which to be mixed up, you see.) 

Sir Charles named a price, and referred 
them to his solicitors. The Count named a 
higher, but still a little come-down, and left 
the matter to be settled between the lawyers. 
He was a soldier and a gentleman, he said, 
with a Tyrolese toss of his high-born head ; 
he would abandon details to men of business. 

As I was re&Uy anxious to oblige Amelia, 




I met the Count accidentally next day on the 
steps of Morley's, (Accidentally, that is to 
say, so far as he was concerned, though I 
had been hanging about in Trafalgar Square 
for half an hour to see him.) I explained in 
guarded terms that I had a great deal of 
influence in my way with Sir Charles ; and 

that a word from me I broke off. He 

stared at me blankly. 

"Commission?" he inquired, at last, with 
a queer little smile, 

"Well, not exactly commission," I an- 
swered, wincing. ** Still, a friendly word, 
you know. One good turn deserves another," 

whatever sum above his bid to-day you 
induce him to offer — eh ? — ifest convenu ? fJ 
" Ten per cent, is more usual," I murmured, 
He was the Austrian hussar again. " Five, 

—or nothing ! 

I bowed and withdrew. $i Well, five then," 
I answered, "just to oblige your Serenity." 

A secretary, after all, can do a great deal 
When it came to the scratch, I had but little 
difficulty in persuading Sir Charles, with 
Amelia's aid, backed up on either side by 
Isabel and Cesarlne, to accede to the 
Count's more reasonable proposal. The 
Southampton Row people had possession of 


He looked at me from head to foot with a 
curious scrutiny- For one moment I feared 
the Tyrolese nobleman in him was going to 
raise its foot and take active measures. But 
the next, I saw that Sir Charles was right 
after all, and that pristine innocence has 
removed from this planet to other quarters. 

He named his lowest price- " M. Vent- 
vorth," he said, "I am a Tyrolese sagnmr ; 
I do not dabble, myself, in commissions and 
percentages. But if your influence with Sir 
Charles — -we understand each other, do we 
not ? — as between gentlemen — a little friendly 
present — no money, of course —but the equi- 
valent of, say, s per cent, in jewellery, on 

certain facts as to the value of the wines 
in the Bordeaux market, which clinched the 
matter. In a week or two all was settled ; 
Charles and I met the Count by appoint- 
ment in Southampton Row, and saw him 
sign, seal, and deliver the title-deeds of 
Schloss Lebenstein. My brother-in-law paid 
the purchase - money into the Count's own 
hands, by cheque, crossed on a first-class 
London firm where the Count kept an ac- 
count to his high, well-born order. Then he 
went away with the proud knowledge that he 
was owner of Schloss Lebenstein. And what 
to me was more important still, I received 
next morning by post a cheque for the 5 per 




cent., unfortunately drawn, by some mis- 
apprehension, to my order on the self-same 
bankers, and with the Count's signature. 
He explained in the accompanying note that 
the matter being now quite satisfactorily 
concluded, he saw no reason of delicacy why 
the amount he had promised should not be 
paid to me forthwith direct in money. 

I cashed the cheque at once ; and said 
nothing about the affair, not even to Isabel. 
My experience is that women are not to be 
trusted with intricate matters of commission 
and brokerage 

Though it was now late in March, and the 
House was sitting, Charles insisted that we 
must all run over at once to take possession 
of our magnificent Tyrolese castle. Amelia 
was almost equally burning with eagerness. 
She gave beiself the airs of a Countess 
already. We took the Orient Express as far 
as Munich ; then the Brenner to Meran, and 
put up for the night at the Erzherzog Johanm 
Though we had telegraphed our arrival, and 
expected some fuss, there was no demonstra- 
tion. Next morning, we drove out in state 
to the Schloss, to enter into enjoyment of 
our vines and fig-trees. 

We were met at the door by the surly 

He mounted the steps. The surly man 
stepped forward and murmured a few morose 
words in German. Charles brushed him 
aside and strode on. Then there followed a 
curious scene of mutual misunderstanding* 
The surly man called lustily for his servants 
to eject us. It was some time before we 
began to catch at the truth, The surly man 
was the rm/Graf von Lebenstein, 

And the Count with the moustache? It 
dawned upon us now. Colonel Clay again ! 
More audacious than ever ! 

Bit by bit it all came out, He had ridden 
behind us the first day we viewed the place, 
and, giving himself out to the servants as one 
of our party, had joined us in the reception- 
room, We asked the real Count why he had 
spoken to the intruder. The Count explained 
in French that the man with the moustache 
had introduced my brother-in-law as the great 
South African millionaire, while he described 
himself as our courier and interpreter. As 
such, he had had frequent interviews with 
the real Graf and his lawyers in Meran, and 
had driven almost daily across to the castle. 
The owner of the estate had named one price 
from the first, and had stuck to it manfully. 
He stuck to it still ; and if Sir Charles chose 


steward. (< I shall dismiss that man/' Charles 
muttered, as Lord of Lebenstein. *' He's 
too sour looking for my taste. Never saw 
such a brute. Not a smile of welcome ! " 

Digitized by l^OOglC 

to buy Schloss Lebenstein over again, he was 
welcome to have it How the I^ndon 
lawyers had been duped the Count had not 
really the slightest idea. He regretted the 




incident, and (coldly) wished us a very good 

There was nothing for it but to return as 
best we might to the Erzherzog Johann, 
crestfallen, and telegraph particulars to the 
police in London. 

Charles and I ran across post-haste to 
England to track down the villain. At 
Southampton Row we found the legal firm 
by no means penitent; on the contraiy, they 
were indignant at the way we had deceived 
them. An impostor had written to them on 
Lebenstein paper from Meran to say that he 
was coming to London to negotiate the sale 
of the Schloss and surrounding property with 
the famous millionaire, Sir Charles Vandrift ; 
and Sir Charles had demonstratively recog- 
nised him at sight as the real Count von 
lebenstein. The firm had never seen the 
present Graf at all, and had swallowed the 
impostor whole, so to speak, on the strength 
of Sir Charles's obvious recognition. He 
had brought over as documents some most 
excellent forgeries — facsimiles of the originals 
— which, as our courier and interpreter, he 
had every opportunity of examining and 
inspecting at the Meran lawyers'. It was 
a deeply-laid plot, and it had succeeded to 
a marvel. Yet, all of it depended upon 
the one small fact that we had accepted the 
man with the long moustache in the hall of 
the Schloss as the Count von Lebenstein on 
his own representation. 

He held our cards in his hands when he 
came in : and the servant had not given them 
to him, but to the genuine Count. That 
was the one unsolved mystery in the whole 

By the evening's post, two letters arrived 
for us at Sir Charles's house : one for myself, 
and one for my employer. Sir Charles's ran 
thus : — 

" High, Well born Incompetence, — 

" I only just pulled through ! A very small 
slip nearly lost me everything. I believed 
you were going to Schloss Planta that day, 
not to Schloss Lebenstein. You changed 
your mind en route. That might have spoiled 
all. Happily I perceived it, rode up by the 
short cut, and arrived somewhat hurriedly and 
hotly at the gate before you. Then I in- 
troduced myself. I had one more bad 
moment when the rival claimant to my name 
and title intruded into the room. But fortune 
favours the brave : your utter ignorance of 
German saved me. The rest was pap. It 
went by itself almost. 

" Allow me, now, as some small return for 

your various welcome cheques, to offer you a 

useful and valuable present — a German 
dictionary, grammar, and phrase-book ! 
" I kiss your hand. 

" No longer 

"Von Lebenstein." 

The other note was to me. It was as 
follows : — 

" Dear, good Mr. Ventvorth, — 

" Ha, ha, ha ; just a W misplaced sufficed 
to take you in, then ! And I risked the 
TH, though anybody with a head on his 
shoulders would surely have known our 
TH is by far more difficult than our W 
for foreigners ! However, all's well that 
ends well ; and now I've got you. The Lord 
has delivered you into my hands, dear 
friend — on your own initiative. I hold 
my cheque, endorsed by you, and cashed 
at my banker's, as a hostage, so to 
speak, for your future good behaviour. 
If ever you recognise me, and betray me 
to that solemn old ass, your employer, 
remember, I expose it, and you with it to 
him. So now we understand each other. I 
had not thought of this little dodge ; it was 
you who suggested it. However, I jumped 
at it Was it not well worth my while paying 
you that slight commission in return for a 
guarantee of your future silence ? Your 
mouth is now closed. And cheap too at 
the price. 

" Yours, dear Comrade, in the great con- 
fraternity of rogues, 

"Cuthbert Clay, Colonel." 

Charles laid his note down, and grizzled. 
" What's yours, Sey ? " he asked. 

u From a lady," I answered. 

He gazed at me suspiciously. "Oh, I 
thought it was the same hand," he said. His 
eye looked through me. 

"No," I answered. "Mrs. Mortimer's." 
But I confess, I trembled. 

He paused a moment. " You made all 
inquiries at this fellow's bank ? " he went on, 
after a deep sigh. 

" Oh, yes," I put in quickly. (I had taken 
good care about that, you may be sure, lest 
he should spot the commission.) "They 
say the self-styled Count von Lebenstein was 
introduced to them by the Southampton Row 
folks, and drew, as usual, on the Lebenstein 
account : so they were quite unsuspicious. A 
rascal who goes about the world on that 
scale, you know, and arrives with such 
credentials as theirs and yours, naturally 
imposes on anybody. The bank didn't 

even w^^n?^bfw lly identified 



The firm was enough. He came to pay 
money in, not to draw it out, And he with- 
drew his balance just two days Inter, saying 
he was in a hurry to get back to Vienna*" 

Would he ask for items ? I confess I felt 
it was an awkward moment. Charles, how- 
ever, was too full of regrets to bother about 
the account. He leaned back in his easy 
chair, stuck his hands in his pockets, held his 

Goleondas. Mag — nifieent combinations he 
would make in the City ! " 

I rose from my seat and stared solemnly 
at my misguided brother-in-law* 

" Charles, T ' I said, "you are beside your- 
self. Too much Colonel Clay has told upon 
your clear and splendid intellect There 
are certain remarks which, however true they 
may be t no self-respecting financier should 



legs straight out on the fender before him, 
and looked the very picture of hopeless 

"Sey," he began, after a minute or two, 
poking the fire, reflectively, " what a genius 
that man has ! Ton my soul, I admire him. 

I sometimes wish " He broke off and 


" Yes, Charles ? " I answered, 

'*' I sometimes wish .... we had got 
him on the Board of the Cloetedorp 

permit himself to make, even in the privacy 
of his own room, to his most intimate friend 
and trusted adviser," 

Charles fairly broke down, '* You are 
right, Sey," he sobbed out "Quite right 
Forgive this outburst At moments of 
emotion, the tnub will sometimes out, in 
spite of everything." 

I respected his feebleness, I did not even 
make it a fitting occasion to ask for a trifling 
increase of salary. 

by Google 

Original from 

Some Old Newspapers. 

From Charles I. to Queen Victoria. 
By F. G. Kitton. 

N ancient, time-stained news- 
sheet possesses a peculiar 
fascination for the thoughtful, 
intelligent reader. Undoubt- 
edly, much greater interest is 
afforded by the perusal of con- 
temporary records of historical incidents, and 
thereby discovering the impressions made 
upon the public mind at the date of their 
occurrence, than is yielded by less vivid 
descriptions of them by modern writers. 
Apart from this, we are conscious of the 
fact that the identical print we so reverently 
handle was the means of spreading infor- 
mation respecting current events among our 
ancestors centuries ago. 

It seems strange, in these days of journal- 
istic enterprise, that our forefathers ever 
managed to exist without their daily or 
weekly newspaper, for it was not until the 
time of the Stuarts that those printed 
sheets were instituted. Prior to that, news 
was conveyed orally, or by manuscript 
" intelligencers," it being then the custom of 
prominent country families to employ retired 
military officers, clergymen, etc., for the 
express purpose of writing up the news. 
When James I. began to reign, this became 
so regular a craft that news-writers set up 
offices and kept 4< emissaries," or reporters, 
to bring them information concerning current 
events, which was afterwards examined and 

In the British Museum may be found a 
copy of a newspaper called The English 
Mercuric, dated 1588, which purports to be 
the earliest ever issued from the press in this 
country ; experts, however, declare it to have 
been concocted by the second Lord Hard- 
wicke, who flourished at a very much later 

The Weekley Newes is believed to be the 
first printed English newspaper, the initial 
number of which was published in 1622 ; that 
is to say, when Ben Jonson was poet-laureate, 
Milton a mere lad of fourteen, and when 

Shakespeare had but lately " joined the 

The final number of The Weekley Newes 
appeared on January 9, 1640. It was suc- 
ceeded by a host of Mercuries, which were 
started for special objects, to advocate certain 
views, and sometimes to circulate " the 
likeliest lies that could be invented to serve 
the cause espoused " ; all these came to an 
untimely end, each being laid down when its 
m'jsion was accomplished. Among these 
17.I1 century newspapers we find Mercurius 
Politicus, Mercurius Husticus, Mera/rius 
Avicus, Mercurius Brittanicus, Mercurius Au- 
licus, Mercurius Aquaticus, Mercurius Domes- 
ticus, Mercurius Anglicanus, etc. During 
the Civil War nearly 30,000 journals, 
pamphlets, and papers (the majority having 
strange and striking titles) were published in 
this manner, and we read that in the heat of 
hostilities each army carried its printing-press. 

The only two official papers sanctioned by 
Cromwell were Mercurius Politicus and The 
Intelligencer, all other similar papers being 
rigorously suppressed. For many years after 
the Restoration there existed but one author- 
ized newspaper — The London Gazette*) the 
law restricted anyone from publishing political 
news without the consent of the Crown, and 
those who took " French leave " were put in 
the pillory. 

A newspaper of 200 years ago seldom 
consisted of more than two small pages (or 
leaflet) of text, and in this limited space was 
comprised British and foreign intelligence 
covering a period of several days, while a 
considerable portion of the second page was 
devoted to advertisements. It was not until 
Queen Anne ascended the throne that 
Londoners enjoyed the luxury of a daily 
newspaper. We will now dip into some of 
these ancestral news-sheets, with a view to 

*First called The Oxford Gazette, owing to the earlier 
numbers being issued at Oxford. The origin of the word 
"Gazette " is traced to an obsolete Italian coin called gazzetta, 
which represented the sum paid to public officials in Venice, 
who read the newi; to itiaw: deVirous of hearing the latest 
intelligence— a custom dating from 1563. 

UNIVlKjI I 1 Ur mlLrTI'jriN 

2 9 2 


discovering the earliest published records of 
certain remarkable occurrences which have 
made their mark in English history, and will 
reproduce at the same time, wherever possible, 
a contemporary illustration of the event. 

The second Civil War ? 164^ resulted (as 
we know) In the trial and execution of 
Charles L, the King being condemned to 
death as a tyrant, traitor, murderer, and 
enemy of his country. In The Moderate 
Intelligencer ; Impartially Communicating 
Martial/ Affairs to the Kingdom of England^ 
dated " from Thursday, January 4, to 
Thursday, January n, 1649/' we obtain an 
interesting glimpse of His Majesty and his 
environment during his incarceration, as 
given in the following facsimile : — 

The grim tragedy took place on January 
30th, 1649, outside one of the windows of the 
Banqueting House at Whitehall, the streets 
and roofs being thronged with excited specta- 
tors. His head fell at the first blow, and as 
the executioner lifted it to the sight of all, a 
groan of pity and horror burst from the silent 

On September 3rd, 1658, died that famous 
personage in England's history, Oliver Crom- 
well. Three days previously there happened 
a violent storm, which tore roofs from houses, 
and levelled huge trees in every forest, this 
natural disturbance seeming " a fitting prelude 
to the passing away of his mighty spirit," 
In one of Cromwell's own newspapers, 
Mercurius Politims^ dated "from Thursday 

Hts Ma jetty feeds heartily, fecming to live rathei by faith then fenfe> he deports hint- 
(clflJkc aStatefman* futmg hbdifcourfe to his company at table; he* talk* ofmeit, 
dimkjgrcaihoufrs^nd good hofpitahty . 

Gentlemen^ befides commanders, are about him ; one common foul- 
dier ftands at the fir ft en trance with a drawn fword , who iifually fwejrc* all the big- 
ger fort of oath*: if any man attempt* to come in without lea vt, wo unto him- yet Letters 
have got to the Kings btd, but the authors a re apprehended ; a iihisMeffcnger was cam- 
ming , one of th army told his Majeftytn plana erm* , that he would be tried for his Jife f 
and defiredhim to prepare, to which he reply ed, by what Law : icwas anfwered, as for 
the Law he was not fovtrfl in, but tbe thing would be done, at which the King wa* very 
fid, and fo continued . 


>"ttffflL " Ttu Moderate InUMatMrtr" Jannarjf P, j»Wt 

From a] 


TJ1WERSITY OF MICfflWPr r ^ rw "" iJ< - 



Septemb. 2 to Thursday Septemb. g, 1658," 
we find the closing scene thus recorded : — 

oath to I^rd Richard, September 9th being 
observed by his Highness and the Council as 

Whisehal t sef>t t $. 
His moft Serene and Renowned Highaefs olivet Lord 
Protector , being after a ikknefs of about fourteen days 
(which appeared an Ague in the beginning) reduced to a very 
low' condition of Body, began early this morning to draw 
near the gate of death j and it pleated God about three a clock 
afternoon, to put a period to his life. 


From thu "JfercurtKi Frtiffcu," Stptwtb s % rttf. 

The writer of this editorial paragraph 
proceeds to eulogize the merits of " that most 
excellent Prince," and points out that "it 
was evident that the main design was to make 
his own interest one and the same with theirs, 
that it might be subserving to the great 
interest of Jesus Christ," 

We further read (in the same journal) that 
Cromwell — 

Being gone , to the unspeakable grief of all good 
men, the Privy Council immediately assembled, and 
being satisfied that the Lord Protector was dead ; 
and upon sure and certain knowledge, that his late 
Highness did in his lift- time, according to Lhe Humbh 
Petition and Advice* declare and appoint the most 
Noble and Illustrious Lord the Lord R it hard \ Eldest 
Son of his said 
Highness, to succeed 
him, it was resolved 
a( the Council, At- 
mhu Con iradhente^ 
That his late High- 
ness hath declared 
and appointed the 
said most noble and 
illustrious Lord to 
succeed him in the 
Government, Lord 
PrQttctor^ etc. 

This announce- 
ment was re- 
ceived with public 
acclamation, and 
on September 
4th s amidst great 
rejoicings, and 
with much pomp 
and ceremony, 
the fact was "pro- 
claimed aloud" 
by Norroy King 
of Arrns + 

Then followed 
a formal adminis- 
tration of the 

** a day of Fasting and Humiliation, in sense 
of the hand of God for taking away the late 
Lord Protector, and to seek for a blessing 
on his Highness the now Lord Protector, 
and his Government" The body of Oliver 
Cromwell was removed privately from 
Whitehall to Somerset House on the 
night of September 20th, 1658, "where 
it rests for some daies more private but 
afterwards will be exposed in State to publick 

In the 17th century, London was subjected 
to two terrible visitations — the Plague and the 
Great Fire, The newspapers of the period are 
crowded with realistic descriptions of the 

by to 


■fammfTbi Michigan 



dreadful scourge, so soon to 
be succeeded by the con- 
flagration which destroyed 
a large portion of the Me- 
tropolis. Among the ad- 
vertisements in The Neives, 
published for Satisfaction 
and Information of the 
People, 1665, there are 
several having reference 
to wonderful antidotes. 
" That excellent Powder 
known by the name of the 
Lady Kent's Powder" is 
described as "a most 
sovereign remedy against 
all pestilential Fevers " ; 
another quack production 
called "The Soveraign in- 
ternal Balsam^ of Tho. See, 
Physician,* 3 is boldly de- 
clared to be "an effectuall 
Preservative against the Plague t and any other 
contagious disease, and all infectious air." 
One of the earliest published intimations of 
the prevalence of the Plague appeared in The 
Intelligencer of June 26th, and reads thus : — 

L&ndon, fuit€ 24 v 

Since it hath pleafed God to fuffcr this City to be vifited 
With the Plague} it has been the bufinefsof fevcra! people to 
repoit the mortality to be much greater* and the Gckuefs to 
be much more general theft God be thanked it is; whereat 
within the wails of Londonthttt dyed but i o of the pUguc the 
laft week j There were but 19 fwfhts of 1 30 Infedtd% and 
Very near two thirds of the whole number dyed out of Ont 
of the laid parishes ; and according to the difcoo feof the 
Otf • we hope that id thentx Bill there may be fome abate- 

Frotn a CvnUmparary BTwultvU. 

his Lordship [the Lord Mayor] is taking a. course 
that A strict inspection shall be had within (he 
City and Liberties of all Goads that shall be 
henceforth brought to the Country Carriers and 
IVaggoners^ that nothing be either delivered or 
received from any infected place or Person. 

The follow- 
ing significant 
paragraph was 
published in 
Th e Newes t 
August 2nd, 
1665 :— 

The City of 
London being left 
somewhat ihin of 
people by reason 
of the present 
Visitation, the 
Royall Exchange 
is shut up for a 
while, according 
to the practice of 
former times once 
in 50 many years, 
in order to Repa- 


' Th* I*UU\ge*ctr f m Jmme »« /KS. 

Quack prescriptions notwithstanding, the 
disease spread with awful rapidity. So 
alarmed were the inhabitants of the infected 
city that the roads out of London were 
choked up by those endeavouring to escape 
from the contagion. As the number of 
deaths increased, special precautions were 
taken by the Civic magnates to check the 
progress of the Plague. 

For the more effectuall security of the Countries 
which shall continue an Enter course with this City, 

On Septem- 
ber 2nd, the 
Lord Mayor issued a proclamation, com- 
manding the people to " furnish themselves 
with sufficient Quantities of Firing, to wit, 
of Sea coal, or any other combustible 
matter, to maintain and continue fire burn- 
ing constantly for three whole days, and 
three whole nights," for it was believed 
this would prove effectual in stamping out 
the infection. It was further ordered that 
"Upon Tuesday the fifth of September, at 
eiffht of the clock at night, the fires are to be 




kindled in all Streets, Courts, Lanes, and 
Alleys of the City and Suburbs thereof." 
This was accordingly done, but heavy rains 
fell and extinguished the fires. The people 
were forbidden to assemble in large 
companies, such as at fairs ; but in 
spite of such regulations the dread- 
ful Plague held full s way, and in 
six months 100,000 Londoners 
had died thereof, while as many 
as 7,000 a week succumbed during 
the worst period. The sick were 
cut off from all communication 
with the living, and at night the 
death -carts went their rounds, 
attended by men with veiled 
faces and holding cloths to their 
mouths, who rang doleful bells, and 
solemnly cried, *' Bring out your 
dead ! ?J This truly terrible experi- 
ence, the horrors of which were en- 
hanced by scenes of robbery and 
bloodshed, madness and drunken 
dissipation, is vigorously portrayi/d by Harri- 
son Ainsworth in l4 Old St. Paul's. ,T 

The Plague abated in the late autumn, 
and London was just recovering from the 
dread infliction when the City underwent 
another terrifying ordeal. In less than twelve 
months from the time when the fearful epi- 
demic had ceased its ravages, London was 
all but consumed by the Great Fire, no fewer 
than 1,300 houses and ninety churches being 
destroyed, while the loss of merchandise and 
other property proved incalculable. The first 

announcement of the conflagration was pub- 
lished in The London Gazette^ dated "from 
Thursday August 30, to Monday Septemb. 3, 
1666," and reads thus : — 

London 7 Stp^ *. About two a clock this morning 3 (ui- 
dmand lamentable F*rt brake out in this City, beginning 
nor far from Thmtt* Slttt 1 1 neat London- Bridge, which 
continue ilill with grcjr violence, and hath already burnt 
down to the ground man* houf^ thereabout^ w huh fad acci- 
dent affefted His Majefly wiih ihat tendcr^tfS) andrcmpsi- 
fion, that tie was pleakd ro go himfclf in Perfon *iih his 
Royal Hi£hnrfa, to give ordtrthar all poflibk rritans fhoLiid 
be ufed for quenching thefirej or flopping ns funhrr iprcad* 
ing. Inwhichcarc. ihe Ri^hc Honoiabkiht Earl of Cr&vtt 
*as Tent hv His Mikity, to be more particular)* BiTiflingro 
ihc LordMdjor and Mafjibatci ; and fcvtral Ccmpani^srf 
Hii Guards fern into (he Cily, to be helpful by what wayf 
tticy could in fe great a calamity 


" JV Lomltm 0*3*0*," September f, /«*. 

In the succeeding number of The London 
Gazette we learn that "the ordinary course 
of this Paper having been interrupted by a 
sad and lamentable accident of Pi re lately 
hapned in the City of London ; it had been 
thought fit for satisfying the minds of so 
many of His Majesties good Subjects, who 
must needs be concerned for the Issue of so 
great an accident to give this short but true 
Accompt- of it/* Two columns of graphic 
description follow, whence we gather that 
the conflagration broke out "at one of the 

PtanM al 


TfflffBBITY OF MICHE/Ht"™ * 



clock in the Morning ... in Pudding-lane 
neer New Fish-street* which falling out at 
that hour of the night, and in a quarter of 
the Town so close built with wooden pitched 
houses, spread itself so far before day, and 
with such destraction to the inhabitants and 
Neighbours, that care was not taken for the 
timely preventing the further diffusion of it, 
by pulling down houses, as ought to have 
been : so that this lamentable Fire in a short 
time became too big to be mastred by any 
Engines or working neer it." 

A violent easterly wind fomented 
the flames, and the fire continued to 
burn, " raging in a bright flame all 
Monday and Tuesday, notwithstand- 
ing His Majesties own, and His Royal 
Highness's indefatigable and personal 
pains to apply all possible remedies to pre- 
vent it, calling upon and helping the people 
with their Guards, and a great number 
of Nobility and Gentry unweariedly 
assisting therein, for which they were 
requited with a thousand blessings 
from the poor, distressed people." On 
Thursday the fire was extinguished, but 
burst out again owing to "the falling 
of some sparks (as is supposed) upon 
a Pile of Wooden buildings ; but his 
Royal Highness, who watched there 
that whole night in Person, by the 
great labours and diligence used, and 
especially by applying Powder to blow 
up the Houses about it, before day 
most happily mastered it." 

We will now come down to the pre- 
sent century. On November 2nd, 1805, 
there appeared in The Morning Post an 
editorial paragraph stating that it was re- 
ported, on the authority of letters said 
to have been received from Lisbon, 
that Lord Nelson had succeeded in 
destroying a great part of the com- 
bined fleet in the harbour of Cadiz ; 
and the writer adds : " Though, from 
the enterprising character of the noble 
Admiral, we cannot consider this rumour as 
improbable, we cannot at present attach any 
credit to it, from the circumstance of no 
advice whatever upon the subject having 
been received at the Admiralty." That 
famous naval engagement between English 
and French ships, known as the Battle 
of Trafalgar, was fought and won on 
the 2 1 st of October, so it seems 
strange, in these days of rapid trans- 
mission of news, that a fortnight elapsed 

before authoritative intelligence reached this 
country. On November 6th, " The London 
Gazette Extraordinary " officially informed the 
public of the result of the battle, and this 
was reprinted in The Morning Post the fol- 
lowing day. The despatches were received 
at the Admiralty Office, at one o'clock on the 
morning of the 6th, from Vice -Admiral 
Collingwood, Commander-in-Chief of His 
Majesty's ships and vessels off Cadiz. In that 
important communication he announced : — 

L*rjalui t *ffC*p* Trafalgar^ 0d. a*, 1805, 

Sir,— The ever to be lamented death of Vice 
Admiral Lord Viscount Nelson* who, in the late 
conflict with the enemy, fell in the hour of viftory, 


From •• The Morning Poetf November 7, taos. 

Lord Collingwood continues : — 

- Such a battle could not be fought .without »us. 
tabling a great loss of men. I have not only 
to lament, in common with tKc British Navy, 
and the British Nation, in the fall of the 
Commander in Chief, the loss of a Hero, 
whose name will be irmriortal, and his me* 
toory ever dear to hit country ; but my heart 
is rent with the most poignant grief for th* 
death of a friend, to whom, by many years in. 
timaty, and a perfeft knowledge of the virtues of 
his mind, which inspired ideas superior to the com. 
mon race of men, I was boonfi by the strongest ties 
of affeftion ; a grief to which even the glorious 
occasion in wftich he fell, does not bring the consola*. 
tfon which perhaps it ought ; his' Lordship received 
4 musket-ball in his left breast, about the middle of 
the aftion, and sent an officer to me immediately 
with his last farewell; and soon after expired. 

collingwood's description of the death of nelson. 
From " The Morning Pott," November 7 t f906. 

The following extract from "A Private 
Letter from an Officer of the Euryalus" dated 
October 26th, and published in the same 
impression of The Morning Post, possesses 
peculiar interest, owing to the fact that it 
contains what is undoubtedly the earliest 
reference to Nelson's famous signal : — 

*The exact spot is indicated by the site upon which 
the Monument now stands. 

I did not leave the ViOtry. till the shot 
were flying thick over her ; and the last signal Lord 
Nelson made, was such as cannot and never will 
be forgot — it was by telegraph — u That England 
expected every man would d o his doty/* 


^cm ■' Tht iiorrini Fort" November 7, fsos. 



mtw fch* Painiintf by) 


[A. W. Ite^A 

During the early part of January, 1806, 
great preparations were made in I^ondon for 
the State funeral of " Britain's Darling Son." 
In The Daily Advertiser \ Oracle* and True 
Briton ■, of the 3rd of that month, we read 
that " Lord Nelson's coffin was yesterday 
shewn to the Public at Mr. France's* shop, 
in Pall Mall"; it is described as being 
" transcendent! y 
beautiful and 
splendid," and 
containing 10,000 
nails, highly gilt. 
Public excitement 
was intense, and 
the bus tie that pre- 
vailed in all the 
streets through 
which the proces- 
sion was to pass 
" exceeds all be- 
lief; glaziers 
cleansing win- 
dows, carpenters 
and upholsterers 
fitting seats and 
benches, and 
every window ex- 

hibiting bills for seats to let," first floors 
commanding a hundred guineas. After lying 
in State at Greenwich Hospital, the body 
was conveyed by water to Whitehall, where, 
on disembarking, Captain Hardy (Nelson's 
first Captain, who was with him when he 
died) suddenly burst into a flood of tears, 
The funeral took place on January yth, and 

•Mr* France was, " Up- 
holder to the King." 
Vol. xiL-38. 





Frvm the Paint&ff <* fl? ftuufcnW. 


2 98 



From, a /Yin*, ajter C. A. /'up**, 

The Daily Advertiser of the following day 
contains a full account of the last obsequies, 
together with a plan of St Paul's 
Cathedral, After describing the 
principal features of the imposing 
scene, the writer thus concludes ;— 

If the Procession was impressive, the 
Ceremony in the Church was still more so, 
There the physical agents that produced 
the effect were different. The splendour 
displayed in broad day, and under a fine 
atmosphere, was over. The Dome of SU 
Paul's and the interior of a church hung 
with black, was assisted in producing awe 
by all that Religion and Music could effect. 
It was a most interesting moment when the 
Remains of the Hero— that Hero "whose 
eagle eye followed the enemy like lightning 
across the Atlantic, and who hurled his 
thunder on the foe— was for once and fur 
all to be deposited amongst his kindred 
dtisL It was then impossible to resist the 
impression j and had the mind been dis- 
posed to resistance , it would have been in 
vain. All eyes were turned to one point 
— to the remains of a Hero who had thrice 
changed the destinies of Europe, and set 
bounds to the Enemy of the Liberties of 
Mankind — to a man and a warrior who had 
always done his duly to England, At this 
last sad ceremony every one felt thai he wept 
no common loss. It was the loss of Nelson - 
and in lamenting it, every Englishman felt 
he was doing honour to himself; and hold- 
ing out to future warriors an inducement to 
follow the example of that admirable man. 

Nearly ten years later another 
glorious event stirred the hearts of 
British patriots, viz., the Duke of Wel- 
lington^ victory at Waterloo — a vic- 
tory which adds lustre to the mill 

annals of Great 
Britain. On the 
18th June, 1S15, 
was fought the 
great battle with 
Napoleon and the 
French, the result 
of which was the 
abdication of Bona- 
parte and his exile 
to St. Helena. The 
welcome news 
arrived in London 
on June 21st, and 
was received with 
a transport which, 
in these days, it is 
difficult to realize. 
The dark cloud 
of dread which 
the Bugbear of 
Europe had drawn 
over the country 
was lifted in an instant, as the fear of in- 
vasion was dispelled On the succeeding 

N ny WATER. 


From <i ,'ri-ti, U jUr Xo^tii*. ixx, . 




day the following authoritative statement 
appeared in The Morning Chronicle ; — 


We stop the press to announce the most brilliant and 
tomplete Victory ever obtained by the Date of Wel- 
lington, and which will for ever exalt the Glory of 
the British Name— Last night, at a quarter pasi 
eleven o'clock, the Hon- Major Percy, son of the 
Earl of Beverley, arrived at the Office of Earl 
Bathurst, with dispatches from the Dyke of 
Wellington* containing the account oF the ac\ion* 
which have taken place from the 15th to the 19th, 
concluding with the grand Battle of Sunday last, 
in which the French were completely routed, whh 
the Iota of Two Hundred and Ten Pifcefi pf 
Cannon, md other Trophies! ! 1 

that he fought the battle with infinite skill, perse- 
verance, and bravery — " and this," adds the 
Noble Duke, "I do not state from any 
personal motive of claiming merit to myself— 
for the victory is to 1*e ascn1>eti to the superior 
physical force and invincible constancy of 
British Soldiers.^ 


From" The Mutnino GhrunkU" Jutw if, rats. 

Arriving, now, at a period within the 
memory of many living persons, I must 
make brief mention of two or three 
historical events which some of my 
readers will, doubtless, readily recall to 
mind The fim to which I refer — 
and the peculiar importance of which 
was, perhaps, not fully realized at 
the time of its occurrence — is the 
birth of Her Majesty Queen Vic- 
toria. The original announcement of 
that strikingly interesting incident is 
simply and unostentatiously recorded 
in The Times of May 25th, i8fg f 
thus : — 

Her Royal High nesa the Duchess of Kent was 
safely delivered yesterday morning, at Kensington? 
palace, of a Princess, at a quarter past four o'clock. 

The following Privy Counsellors were present on 
the occasion : — 

Hb Royal Highness the Duke of Sussex, his Grace the Duke of 
Wellington, the Archbishop of Canterbury, Marquis of Luasdown, 
Earl Bathurn, Mr. Canning, Bishop of London, Mr* Vanaturt. 

After giving details of the engage- 
ment, the account thus concludes : — 

This glorious event will be announced this 
morning by a Message to the Lord Mayor 
and by the discharge of the Park and Tower 
guns. It is the grandest and must important 
Victory ever obtained. 

The same journal of June 26th, 
1815, printed this interesting para- 
graph anent the " Iron Duke " :— 

The Duke of Wellington, in a letter to Lady 
Mornington, his Mother, pays a high compliment 
to Bonaparte, He says that he did hk duty— crowned Queen on June 28th, 1838, Turning 

IKK ll[kTH i»F ijUKtiN VIC'I'dAIA. 

King William IV. was succeeded by his 
niece, the Princess Victoria, who was duly 

From tht Pamimg by] 

by \jk 




M, Stmerwrid* 



to The Times of the 29th, we read this des- 
cription of " The Putting on of the Crown n : — 


The Queen still sitting ia King Edward's chair, the Arcb- 

bUhop T agisted bj the same archbishops aud bbb«pi 

as be fore, left the altar ; the Dean of Westminster 

brought the Crown, and Hie Arch bishop taking it of 

bim, reverently placed it upon the Queen's bead. 

Immediately Her Majesty wu d*owr>*J the peert and peer* 

esses put on their roronetej biihope their cap*, and Itings-of- 

arms thdr crowns. 

'* Soon as tha Royal brtfw received Uie crown, 
•* And Majesty put ail her glories on t 
f * Straight on a thousand coronal* we graze 
15 Straight all around wan one Lai penal biaW 
The effect was magnificent in the extreme 
Tht* shouts which followed ibis part of the ceremony were 
really tumultuous, and all but made " the vaulted roof *e* 

A signal being given the instant the Crewn wa* placed on 
the Queen's bead, the great guns at the Tower fired a Roy*l 
salute, which fan aa additional but somewhat startling so- 
lemnity to the occasion. 


The acclamation ceasing, the Archbishop 
1 Be strong and of a good courage ; 
observe the commandments of God, 
and walk in his holy ways ; fight the 
good fight of faith, and lay hold on 
eternal life ; that in this world you may 
be crowned with success and honour, 
and when you have finished your course 
receive a crown of righteousness, which 
God, the righteous judge, shall give you 
in that day. Amen.' 

" The Anthem followed. 

"•The Queen shall rejoice in thy 
strength, Lord ; exceeding glad 
shall she be of thy salvation. Thou 
hast presented her with the blessings 
of goodness, and hast set a crown of 
pure gold upon her head. Hallelujah. 

And thus was accomplished the im- 
pressive ceremony of crowning "Vic- 
toria Alexandrine" Queen of these 

From tt* Firing Bid 


[jr. Randel^ tsss. 

by Google 

Original from 

Rodney Stone. 




LL through that weary night 
my uncle and I, with Belcher, 
Berkeley Craven, and a dozen 
of the Corinthians, searched 
the country-side for some trace 
of our missing man, but save 
for that ill-boding splash upon the road not 
the slightest clue could be obtained as to 
what had befallen him. No one had seen or 
heard anything of him, and the single cry in 
the night of which the ostler told us was the 
only indication of the tragedy which had 
taken place. In small parties we scoured 
the country as far as East Grinstead and 
Bletchingley, and the sun had been long over 
the horizon before we found ourselves back 
at Crawley once more with heavy hearts 
and tired feet. My uncle, who had driven 
to Reigate in the hope of gaining some 
intelligence, did not return until past seven 
o'clock, and a glance at his face gave us the 
same black news which he gathered from 
our own. 

We held a council round our dismal 
breakfast-table, to which Mr. Berkeley Craven 
was invited as a man of sound wisdom and 
large experience in matters of sport. Belcher 
was half frenzied by this sudden ending of all 
the pains which he had taken in the training, 
and could only rave out threats at Berks and 
his companions, with terrible menaces as to 
what he would do when he met them. My 
uncle sat grave and thoughtful, eating 
nothing and drumming his fingers upon the 
table, while my heart was heavy within me, 
and I could have sunk my face into my 
hands and burst into tears as I thought 
how powerless I was to aid my friend. Mr. 
Craven, a fresh-faced, alert man of the world, 
was the only one of us who seemed to pre- 
serve both his wits and his appetite. 

" Let me see ! The fight was to be at ten, 
was it not ? " he asked. 

" It was to be." 

11 1 daresay it will be, too. Never say die, 
Tregellis ! Your man has still three hours 
in which to come back." 

My uncle shook his head. 

"The villains have done their work too 
well for that, I fear," said he. 

" Well, now, let us reason it out," said 
Berkeley Craven. "A woman comes and 
she coaxes this young man out of his room. 

Copyright, 1896, by A. Conan Doyle, in the United States of /ajieri< 

Do you know any young woman who had an 
influence over him ? " 

My uncle looked at me. 

" No," said I. " I know of none." 

" Well, we know that she came," said 
Berkeley Craven. " There can be no 
question as to that. She brought some 
piteous tale, no doubt, such as a gallant young 
man could hardly refuse to listen to. He 
fell into the trap, and allowed himself to be 
decoyed to the place where these rascals 
were waiting for him. We may take all that 
as proved, I should fancy, Tregellis." 

" I see no better explanation," said my 

" Well, then, it is obviously not the interest 
of these men to kill him. Warr heard them 
say as much. They could not make sure, 
perhaps, of doing so tough a young fellow 
an injury which would certainly prevent him 
from fighting. Even with a broken arm he 
might pull the fight off, as men have done 
before. There was too much money on for 
them to run any risks. They gave him a 
tap on the head, therefore, to prevent his 
making too much resistance, and they then 
drove him off to some farmhouse or stable, 
where they will hold him a prisoner until the 
time for the fight is over. I warrant that 
you see him before to-night as well as ever 
he was." 

This theory sounded so reasonable that it 
seemed to lift a little of the weight from my 
heart, but I could see that from my uncle's 
point of view it was a poor consolation. 

" I dare say you are right, Craven," said he. 

" I am sure that I am." 

" But it won't help us to win the fight." 

" That's the point, sir," cried Belcher. 
" By the Lord, I wish they'd let me take his 
place, even with my left arm strapped behind 

" I should advise you in any case to go to 
the ring-side," said Craven. "You should 
hold on until the last moment in the hope of 
your man turning up." 

"I shall certainly do so. And I shall 
protest against paying the wagers under such 

Craven shrugged his shoulders. 

"You remember the conditions of the 
match," said he. " I fear it is pay or play. 
No doubt the point might be submitted to 
the referees, but I cannot doubt that they 
would have to give it against you." 

We had sunk into a melancholy silence, 


3° 2 


when suddenly Belcher sprang up from the 


" Hullo ! Listen to that ! " 

" What is it ? " we cried, alt three, 

" The betting ! Listen again ! " 

Out of the babel of voices and roaring of 

wheels outside the window a single sentence 

struck sharply upon our ears. 

" Even money, Jim,*' cried several voices. 

" It was long odds on Wilson when last I 

" Yes ; but there came a man who laid 
freely the other way, and he started others 
taking the odds, until now you can get even 

"Who started it?" 

■" J J^ fKN TO THAT I ' 

u Even money upon Sir Charles's nominee!" 

"Even money 1" cried my uncle. "It 
was seven to one against me yesterday. 
What is the meaning of this?" 

" Even money either way," bawled the 
voice again, 

"There's somebody knows something," 
said Belcher, "and there's nobody has a 
better right to know what it is than we. 
Come on, sir, and we'll get to the bottom 
of it." 

The village street was packed with people, 
for they had been sleeping twelve and fifteen 
in a room, whilst hundreds of gentlemen had 
spent the night in their carriages. So thick 
was the throng that it was no easy matter to 
get out of the door of the " George." A 
drunken man, snoring horribly in his breath- 
ing, was curled up in the passage absolutely 
oblivious to the stream of people who flowed 
round and occasionally over him. 

11 What's the betting, boys? " asked Belcher, 
from the steps. 

" Why, that's he ! The man that lies drunk 
in the passage, He's been pouring it down 
like water ever since he drove in at six 

Belcher stooped down and turned over the 
man's inert head so as to show his features. 

" He's a stranger to me, sir," 

"And to me/' added my uncle. 

"But not to me 3 " I cried, " It's John 
Gumming, the landlord of the inn at Friar's 
Oak. I've known him ever since I was a 
boy, and I can't be mistaken." 

"Well, what the deuce can ht know about 
it ? " said Craven. 

" Nothing at all, in all probability," answered 
my uncle. "He is backing young Jim 
because he knows him and because he has 
more brandy than sense. His drunken con- 
fidence set others to do the same, and so the 
odds came down," 

u He was as sober as a judge when he 
drove in here this morning," said the land- 
lord. "He began backing Sir Charles's 




nominee from the moment he arrived. Some 
of the other boys took the office from him, 
and they very soon brought the odds down 
amongst them/' 

11 1 wish he had not brought himself down 
as well," said my uncle. ** I beg that you 
will bring me a little lavender water, land- 
lord, for the smell of this crowd is appalling, 
I suppose you could not get any sense from 
this drunken fellow, nephew* or find out 
what it is he knows** 

It was in vain that I rocked him by the 
shoulder and shouted his name in his ear, 
Nothing could break in upon that serene 

"Well, it's a 
unique situation 
as far as my ex- 
perience goes," 
said Berkeley 
Craven. " Here 
we are within 
a cou pie of 
hours of the 
fight, and yet you 
don't know 
whether you have 
a man to repre- 
sent you. I hope 
you don't stand 
to lose very much, 
Tregellis ? " 

My uncle shrug- 
ged his shoulders 
carelessly^ and 
took a pinch of 
his snuff with that 
inimitable sweep- 
ing gesture which 
no man has ever 
ventured to imi- 

" Pretty well, 
my boy ! ,J said 
he. "But it is 
time that we 
thought of going up to the Downs. This 
night journey has left me just a little efflenre^ 
and I should like half an hour of privacy to 
arrange my toilet If this is my last kick, 
it shall at least be with a well-brushed 

I have heard a traveller from the wilds of 
America say that he looked upon the Red 
Indian and the English gentleman as closely 
akin, citing the passion for sport, the aloof- 
ness, and the suppression of the emotions in 
each- I thought of his words as I watched 
my uncle that morning, for I believe that no 


victim tied to the stake could have had a 
worse outlook before him. It was not merely 
that his own fortunes were largely at stake, 
but it was the dreadful position in w T hich he 
would stand before this immense concourse 
of people, many of whom had put their money 
upon his judgment, if he should find himself 
at the last moment with an impotent excuse 
instead of a champion to put before them. 
What a situation for a man who prided him- 
self upon his aplomb \ and upon bringing all 
that he undertook to the very highest standard 
of success ! I, who knew him well, could 
tell from his wan cheeks and his restless 

fingers that he 
was at his wits' 
ends what to 
do; but no 
stranger who ob- 
served his jaunty 
bearing, the 
flecking of his 
laced handker- 
chief, the hand- 
ling of his quiz- 
zing glass, or the 
shooting of his 
ruffles, would ever 
have thought 
that this butter- 
fly creature could 
have had a care 
upon earth, 

It was close 
upon nine o'clock 
when we were 
ready to start for 
the Downs, and 
by that time my 
uncle's curricle 
was almost the 
only vehicle left 
in the village 
street The night 
before they had 
Iain with their 
wheels interlocking and their shafts under each 
other's bodies, as thick as they could fit, from 
the old church to the Crawley Elm, spanning 
the road five -deep for a good half- mile in 
length, Now the grey village street lay 
before us almost deserted, save by a few 
women and children. Men, horses, carriages 
— all were gone* My uncle drew on his 
driving gloves and arranged his costume with 
punctilious neatness ; but I observed that 
he glanced up and down the road with a 
haggard and yet expectant eye before he 
took his seat I sat behind with Belcher, 





while the Hon. Berkeley Craven took the 
place beside him. 

The road from Crawley curves gently 
upwards to the upland heather-clad plateau 
which extends for many miles in every direc- 
tion. Strings of pedestrians, most of them 
so weary and dust-covered that it was evident 
that they had walked the thirty miles from 
London during the night, were plodding 
along by the sides of the road or trailing 
over the long, mottled slopes of the moor- 
land. A horseman, fantastically dressed in 
green and splendidly mounted, was waiting 
at the cross-roads, and as he spurred towards 
us I recognised the dark, handsome face and 
bold, black eyes of Mendoza. 

" I am waiting here to give the office, Sir 
Charles," said he. " It's down the Grinstead 
road, half a mile to the left." 

"Very good," said my uncle, reining his 
mares round into the cross-road. 

" You haven't got your man there," re- 
marked Mendoza, with something of suspicion 
in his manner. 

"What the deuce is that to you?" cried 
Belcher, furiously. 

" It's a good deal to all of us, for there 
are some funny rumours about." 

"You keep them to yourself, then, or you 
may wish you had never heard them." 

" All right, Jim ! Your breakfast don't 
seem to have agreed with you this morning." 

"Have the others arrived?" asked my 
uncle, carelessly. 

" Not yet, Sir Charles. But Tom Oliver 
is there with the ropes and stakes. Jackson 
drove by just now, and most of the ring- 
keepers are up." 

" We have still an hour," remarked my 
uncle, as he drove on. " It is possible that 
the others may be late, since they have to 
come from Reigate." 

" You take it like a man, Tregellis," said 

" We must keep a bold face and brazen it 
out until the last moment" 

"Of course, sir," cried Belcher. "I'll 
never believe the betting would rise like that 
if somebody didn't know something. We'll 
hold on by our teeth and nails, sir, and see 
what comes of it." 

We could hear a sound like the waves 
upon the beach, long before we came in sight 
of that mighty multitude, and then at last, 
on a sudden dip of the road, we saw it lying 
before us, a whirlpool of humanity with an 
open vortex in the centre. All round, the 
thousands of carriages and horses were dotted 
over the moor, and the slopes were gay with 

tents and booths. A spot had been chosen 
for the ring where a great basin had been 
hollowed out in the ground, so that all round 
that natural amphitheatre a crowd of thirty 
thousand people could see very well what 
was going on in the centre. As we drove up 
a buzz of greeting came from the people 
upon the fringe which was nearest to us, 
spreading and spreading, until the whole 
multitude had joined in the acclamation. 
Then an instant later a second shout broke 
forth, beginning from the other side of the 
arena, and the faces which had been turned 
towards us whisked round, so that in a 
twinkling the whole foreground changed from 
white to dark. 

" It's they. They are in time," said my 
uncle and Craven together. 

Standing up on our curricle, we could see 
the cavalcade approaching over the Downs. 
In front came a huge yellow barouche, 
in which sat Sir Lothian Hume, Crab Wilson, 
and Captain Barclay, his trainer. The pos- 
tillions were flying canary-yellow ribands from 
their caps, those being the colours under 
which Wilson was to fight Behind the 
carriage there rode a hundred or more 
noblemen and gentlemen of the west 
country, and then a line of gigs, tilburies, 
and carriages wound away down the Grin- 
stead road as far as our eyes could follow 
it. The big barouche came lumbering over 
the sward in our direction until Sir Lothian 
Hume caught sight of us, when he shouted 
to his postillions to pull up. 

" Good morning, Sir Charles," said he, 
springing out of the carriage. " I thought 
I knew your scarlet curricle. We have an 
excellent morning for the battle." 

My uncle bowed coldly, and made no 

" I suppose that since we are all here we 
may begin at once," said Sir Lothian, taking 
no notice of the other's manner. 

" We begin at ten o'clock. Not an instant 

" Very good, if you prefer it By the way, 
Sir Charles, where is your man ? " 

" I would ask you that question, Sir 
Lothian," answered my uncle. "Where is 
my man ? " 

A look of astonishment passed over Sir 
Lothian's features, which, if it were not real, 
was most admirably affected. 

" What do you mean by asking me such a 
question ? " 

" Because I wish to know." 

" But how can I tell, and what business is 
it of mine ? ' 




u I have reason to believe that you have 
made it your business." 

11 If you would kindly put the matter 
a little more clearly, there would be 
some possibility of my understanding 

They were both very white and cold, formal 
and unimpassioned in their bearing, but 
exchanging glances which crossed like rapier 
bhttles. I thought of Sir Lothian's murderous 
repute as a duellist, and I trembled for my 

** Now, sir, if you imagine that you have a 
grievance against me, you will oblige me 
vastly by putting it into words.'' 

"1 will," said my 
uncle, "There 
has been a con- 
spiracy to maim or 
kidnap my man, 
and 1 have every 
reason to believe 
that you are privy 
to iV T 

An ugly sneer 
came over Sir 
Lothian's saturn- 
ine face. 

"I see/' said he. 
"Yourman has not 
come on quite as 
well as you had 
expected in his 
training, and you 
are hard put to it 
to invent an ex- 
cuse. Still, I 
should have 
thought that you 
might have found 
a more probab'e 
one, and one 
which would 
entail less serious 
consequences. 1 ' 

" Sir/' answered 
my uncle, " you 
are a liar, hut how 
great a liar you 
are nobody knows 
save yourself.*' 

Sir Lothian's 
hollow cheeks 
grew white with 

effort, he became the same cold, hard, self- 
contained man as ever, 

** It does not become our position to 
quarrel like two yokels at a fair," said 
he ; " we shall go further into the matter 

"I promise you that we shall/' answered 
my uncle, grimly, 

"Meanwhile, I hold you to the terms of 
your wager. Unless you produce your 
nominee within five-and- twenty minutes, I 
claim the match. " 

" Eight -and -twenty minutes/' said my 
uncle, looking at his watch, "You may 
claim it then, but not an instant before." 

'Mh ItHHtAKS Hollow CHVJ-.k.s Ck'Hv WHlIK Wli Ff rASSins, 

passion, and I 
saw for an instant 

in his deq>*et eyes such a glare as comes He was admirable at that moment, for his 

from the frenzied hound, rearing and ramp- manner was that of a man with all sorts of 

ing at the end of its chain. Then, with an hidden resources, so that I could hardly 




make myself realize as I looked at him that 
our position was really as desperate as I 
knew it to be. In the meantime Berkeley 
Craven, who had been exchanging a few 
words with Sir Lothian Hume, came back to 
our side. 

" I have been asked to be sole referee in 
this matter/' said he. " Does that meet with 
your wishes, Sir Charles ? " 

" I shall be vastly obliged to you, Craven, 
if you will undertake the duties." 

" And Jackson has been suggested as time- 

" I could not wish a better one." 

" Very good. That is settled." 

In the meantime the last of the carriages 
had come up, and the horses had all Been 
picketed upon the moor. The stragglers 
who had dotted the grass had closed in until 
the huge crowd was one unit with a single 
mighty voice, which was already beginning 
to bellow its impatience. Looking round, 
there was hardly a moving object upon the 
whole vast expanse of green and purple % 
down. A belated gig was coming at full 
gallop down the road which led from the 
south, and a few pedestrians were still trail- 
ing up from Crawley, but nowhere was there 
a sign of the missing man. 

" The betting keeps up for all that," said 
Belcher. " I've been to the ring-side, and 
it is still even." 

"There's a place for you at the outer 
ropes, Sir Charles," said Craven. 

"There is no sign of my man yet. I 
won't come in until he arrives." 

" It is my duty to tell you that only ten 
minutes are left." 

" I make it five," cried Sir Lothian 

"That is a question which lies with the 
referee," said Craven, firmly. " My watch 
makes it ten minutes, and ten it must be." 

" Here's Crab Wilson ! " cried Belcher, 
and at the same moment a shout like a 
thunderclap burst from the crowd. The 
west - countryman had emerged from his 
dressing tent, followed by Dutch Sam and 
Tom Owen, who were acting as his seconds. 
He was nude to the waist, with a pair of 
white calico drawers, white silk stockings, and 
running shoes. 

Round his middle was a canary-yellow 
sash, and dainty little ribands of the same 
colour fluttered from the sides of his 
knees. He carried a high white hat in his 
hand, and running down the lane which 
had been kept open through the crowd to 
allow persons to reach the ring, he threw the 

hat high into the air so that it fell within the 
staked inclosure. Then with a double 
spring he cleared the outer and inner line of 
rope, and stood with his arms folded in the 

I do not wonder that the people cheered. 
Even Belcher could not help joining in the 
general shout of applause. He was certainly 
a splendidly built young athlete, and one 
could not have wished to look upon a finer 
sight as his white skin, sleek and luminous 
as a panther's, gleamed in the light of the 
morning sun, with a beautiful liquid rippling 
of muscles at every movement. His arms 
were long and slingy, his shoulders loose and 
yet powerful, with the downward slant which 
is a surer index of power than squareness 
can be. 

He clasped his hands behind his head, 
threw them aloft, and swung them backwards, 
and at every movement some fresh expanse 
of his smooth, white skin became knobbed 
and gnarled with muscle, whilst a yell of 
admiration and delight from the crowd 
greeted each fresh exhibition. Then, folding 
his arms once more, he stood like a beautiful 
statue waiting for his antagonist. 

Sir Lothian Hume had been looking 
impatiently at his watch, and now he shut it 
with a triumphant snap. 

" Time's up ! " he cried. " The match is 
forfeit " 

" Time is not up," said Craven. 

"I have still five minutes." My uncle 
looked round with despairing eyes. 

" Only three, Tregellis ! " 

A deep, angry murmur was rising from the 
crowd. " It's a cross ! It's a cross ! It's a 
fake ! " was the cry. 

" Two minutes, Tregellis ! " 

" Where's your man, Sir Charles ? Where's 
the man that we have backed ? " Flushed 
faces began to crane over each other, and 
angry eyes glared up at us. 

" One more minute, Tregellis ! I am very 
sorry, but it will be my duty to declare it 
forfeit against you." 

There was a sudden swirl in the crowd, a 
rush, a shout, and high up in the air there 
spun an old black hat, floating over the heads 
of the ring-siders and flickering down within 
the ropes. 

" Saved, by the Ix>rd ! " screamed Belcher. 

"I rather fancy," said my uncle, calmly, 
" that this must be my man." 

" Too late ! " cried Sir Lothian. 

"No," answered the referee. "It was 
still twenty seconds to the hour. The fight 
will now proceed." 





'thehe spun ai* olp black hat. 



Out of the whole of that vast multitude I 
was one of the very few who had observed 
whence it was that this black hat, skimming 
so opportunely over the ropes, had come. I 
have already remarked that when we looked 
around us there had been a single gig travel- 
ling very rapidly upon the southern road, 
My uncle's eyes had rested upon it, but his 
attention had been drawn away by the dis- 
cussion between Sir Lothian Hume and the 
referee, upon the question of time. For my 
own part I had been so struck by the furious 
manner in which these belated travellers were 
approaching, that I had continued to watch 
them with all sorts of vague hopes within me, 
which I did not dare to put into words for 
fear of adding to my uncle's disappointments. 
I had just made out that the gig contained a 
man and a woman, when suddenly I saw it 

swerve off the road, 
and come with a 
galloping horse and 
bounding wheels 
right across the 
moor, crashing 
through the gorse 
bushes, and sink- 
ing down to the 
hubs in the heather 
and bracken. As 
the driver pulled 
up his foam-spat- 
tered horse, he 
threw the reins to 
his companion, 
sprang from his 
seat, butted furi- 
ously into the 
crowd, and then 
an instant after- 
wards up went the 
hat which told of 
his challenge and 

"There is no 
hurry now, I pre- 
sume* Craven," said 
my uncle, as coolly 
as if this sudden 
effect had been 
carefully devised by 

{i Now that your 
man has his hat 
in the ring you 
can Like as much 
time as you like, Sir Charles," 

"Your friend has certainly cut it rather 
fine, nephew," 

" It is not Jim, sir/* I whispered. M It is 
someone else," 

My uncle's eyebrows betrayed his astonish- 

" Someone else ! " he ejaculated. 
" And a good man, too ! " roared Belcher, 
slapping his thigh with a crack like a pistol 
shot. "Why, blow my dickey if it ain't old 
Jack Harrison himself! " 

Looking down at the crowd we had seen 
the head and shoulders of a powerful and 
strenuous man moving slowly forward, and 
leaving behind him a long, Y-shaped ripple 
upon its surface like the wake of a swimming 
dog. Now, as he pushed his way through the 
looser fringe the head was raised, and there 
was the grinning, hardy face of the smith 
looking up at us. He had left his hat in the 
ring, and waii enveloped in an overcoat with 


3 o8 


a blue bird's - eye handkerchief tied round 
his neck. As he emerged from the throng 
he let his great -coat fly loose, and showed 
that he was dressed in his full fighting kit — 
black drawers, chocolate stockings, and white 

"I'm right sorry to be so late, Sir 
Charles," he cried. " I'd have been sooner, 
but it took me a little time to make it all 
straight with the missus. I couldn't convince 
her all at once, an' so I brought her with me, 
and we argued it out on the way." Looking 
at the gig, I saw that it was indeed Mrs. 
Harrison who was seated in it. Sir Charles 
beckoned him up to the wheel of the 

" What in the world brings you here, 
Harrison ? " he whispered. " I am as glad to 
see you as ever I was to see a man in my 
life, but I confess that I did not expect you." 

" Well, sir, you heard I was coming," said 
the smith. 

"Indeed, I did not." 

" Didn't you get a message, Sir Charles, 
from a man named Cumming, landlord of the 
Friar's Oak Inn ? Mister Rodney there 
would know him." 

" We saw him dead drunk at the 'George/ " 

" There, now, if I wasn't afraid of it ! " 
cried Harrison, angrily. " He's always like 
that when he's excited, and I never saw a 
man more off his head than he was when he 
heard I was going to take this job over. 
He brought a bag of sovereigns up with him 
to back me with." 

"That's how the betting got turned," said 
my uncle. "He found others to follow his 
lead, it appears." 

" I was so afraid that he might get upon 
the drink that I made him promise to go 
straight to you, sir, the very instant he should 
arrive. He had a note to deliver." 

"I understand that he reached the 'George ' 
at six, whilst I did not return from Reigate 
until after seven, by which time I have no 
doubt that he had drunk his message to me 
out of his head. But where is your nephew 
Jim, and how did you come to know that 
you would be needed ? " 

" It is not his fault, I promise you, that 
you should be left in the lurch. As to me, I 
had my orders to take his place from the 
only man upon earth whose word I have 
never disobeyed." 

"Yes, Sir Charles," said Mrs. Harrison, 
who had left the gig and approached us. 
" You can make the most of it this time, for 
never again shall you have my Jack — not if 
you were to go on your knees for him." 

" She's not a patron of sport, and that's a 
fact," said the smith. 

" Sport ! " she cried, with shrill contempt 
and anger. " Tell me when all is over." 

She hurried away, and I saw her afterwards 
seated amongst the bracken, her back turned 
towards the multitude, and her hands over 
her ears, cowering and wincing in an agony 
of apprehension. 

Whilst this hurried scene had been taking 
place, the crowd had become more and more 
tumultuous, partly from their impatience at 
the delay, and partly from their exuberant 
spirits at the unexpected chance of seeing so 
celebrated a fighting-man as Harrison. His 
identity had already been noised abroad, and 
many an elderly connoisseur plucked his 
long net-purse out of his fob, in order to put 
a few guineas upon the man who would 
represent the school of the past against the 
present The younger men were still in 
favour of the west countryman, and small 
odds were to be had either way in proportion 
to the number of the supporters of each in 
the different parts of the crowd. 

In the meantime Sir Lothian Hume had 
come bustling up to the Honourable Berkeley 
Craven, who was still standing near our 

"I beg to lodge a formal protest against 
these proceedings," said he. 

" On what grounds, sir ? " 

" Because the man produced is not the 
original nominee of Sir Charles Tregellis." 

"I never named one, as you are well 
aware," said my uncle. 

" The betting has all been upon the under- 
standing that young Jim Harrison was my 
man's opponent. Now, at the last moment, 
he is withdrawn and another and more 
formidable man put into his place." 

" Sir Charles Tregellis is quite within his 
rights," said Craven, firmly. " He undertook 
to produce a man who should be within the 
age limits stipulated, and I understand that 
Harrison fulfils all the conditions. You are 
over five-and-thirty, Harrison ? " 

" Forty-one next month, master." 

" Very good. I direct that the fight pro- 

But alas, there was one authority which was 
higher even than that of the referee, and we 
were destined to an experience which was the 
prelude, and sometimes the conclusion also, 
of many an old-time fight. Across the moor 
there had ridden a black-coated gentleman, 
with buff-topped hunting-boots and a couple 
of grooms behind him, the little knot of 
horsemen showing up clearly upon the curv- 




ing swells and then dipping down into the 
alternate hollows* Some of the more ob- 
servant of the crowd had glanced suspiciously 
at this advancing figure, but the majority had 
not observed him at all until he reined up his 
horse upon a knoll which overlooked the 
amphitheatre, and in a stentorian voice 
announced that he represented the Cu$to$ 
rotulorum of His Majesty's county of Surrey, 
that he proclaimed this assembly to be 
gathered together for an illegal purpose, and 
that he was commissioned to disperse it by 
force, if necessary. 

Never before had I understood that deep- 
seated fear and wholesome respect which 
many centuries of bludgeoning at the hands 
of the law had beaten into the fierce and 
turbulent natives of these islands. Here 
was a man with two attendants upon one 
side, and on the other thirty thousand very 
angry and disappointed people, many of 
them fighters by profession, and some from 
the roughest and most dangerous classes in 
the country. And yet it was the single man 
who appealed confidently to force, whilst the 
huge multitude swayed and murmured like a 
mutinous f fierce-willed creature brought face 
to face with a power 

against which it p- — — — - 

knew that there 
was neither argu- 
ment nor resist- 
ance. My uncle, 
however, with 
Berkeley Craven, 
Sir John Lade, and 
a dozen other lords 
and gentlemen, 
hurried across to 
the interrupter of 
the sport 

u I presume that 
you have a warrant, 
sir ? " said Craven, 

u Yes, sir, I have 
a warrant." 

u Then I have a 
legal right to in- 
spect it" 

The magistrate 
handed him a blue 
paper which the 
little knot of gentle- 
men clustered their 
heads over, for they 
were mostly magi- 
strates themselves, 
and were keenly 
alive to any possible 

flaw in the wording. At last Craven shrugged 
his shoulders and handed it back. 

"This seems to be correct, sir," said he. 

"It is entirely correct," answered the 
magistrate, affably, "To prevent waste of 
your valuable time, gentlemen, I may say, 
once for all, that it is my unalterable deter- 
mination that no fight shall, under any 
circumstances, be brought off in the county 
over which I have control, and I am prepared 
to follow you all day in order to prevent it-" 

To my inexperience this appeared to bring 
the whole matter to a conclusion, but I had 
underrated the foresight of those who arrange 
these affairs, and also the advantages which 
made Crawley Down so favourite a rendezvous. 
There was a hurried consultation between the 
principals, the backers } the Referee, and the 

"It's seven miles to Hampshire border 
and al>out six to Sussex," said Jackson. The 
famous master of the ring was clad in 
honour of the occasion in a most resplendent 
scarlet coat worked in gold at the button- 
holes, a white stock, a looped hat with a 
broad black band, buff knee- breeches, white 
silk stocking?, and paste buckles — a costume 






which did justice to his magnificent figure, 
and especially to those famous " balustrade " 
calves which had helped him to be the finest 
runner and jumper as well as the most 
formidable pugilist in England. His hard, 
high-boned face, large, piercing eyes, and 
immense physique made him a fitting leader 
for that rough and tumultuous body who had 
named him as their commander-in-chief. 

" If I might venture to offer you a word of 
advice," said the affable official, "it would 
be to make for the Hampshire line, for Sir 
James Ford on the Sussex border has as 
great an objection to such assemblies as I 
have, whilst Mr. Morridew, of Long Hall, 
who is the Hampshire magistrate, has fewer 
scruples upon the point" 

" Sir," said my uncle, raising his hat in his 
most impressive manner, " I am infinitely 
obliged to you. With the referee's per- 
mission, there is nothing for it but to shift the 

In an instant a scene of the wildest 
animation had set in. Tom Owen and his 
assistant, Fogo, with the help of the ring- 
keepers, plucked up the stakes and ropes and 
carried them off across country. Crab Wilson 
was enveloped in great-coats, and borne away 
in the barouche, whilst Champion Harrison 
took Mr. Craven's place in our curricle. 
Then, off the huge crowd started, horsemen, 
vehicles, and pedestrians, rolling slowly over 
the broad face of the moorland. The car- 
riages rocked and pitched like boats in a 
seaway, as they lumbered along, fifty abreast, 
scrambling and lurching over everything which 
came in their way. Sometimes, with a snap 
and a thud, one axle would come to the 
ground, whilst a wheel reeled off amidst the 
tussocks of heather, and roars of delight 
greeted the owners as they looked ruefully at 
the ruin. Then as the gorse clumps grew 
thinner, and the sward more level, those on 
foot began to run, the riders struck in their 
spurs, the drivers cracked their whips, and 
away they all streamed in the maddest, 
wildest cross-country steeplechase, the yellow 
barouche and the crimson curricle, which 
held the two champions, leading the van. 

" What do you think of your chances, 
Harrison?" I heard my uncle ask, as the 
two mares picked their way over the broken 

" It's my last fight, Sir Charles," said the 
smith. " You heard the missus say that if 
she let me off this time I was never to ask 
again. I must try and make it a good one." 

" But your training ? " 

" I'm always in training, sir. I work hard 

Dioilizsd oy vjOOitlt 

from morning to night, and I drink little else 
than water. I don't think that Captain 
Barclay can do much better with all his 

" He's rather long in the reach for you." 

" I've fought and beaten them that were 
longer. If it comes to a rally I should hold 
my own, and I should have the better of him 
at a throw." 

" It's a match of youth against experience. 
Well, I would not hedge a guinea of my 
money. But unless he was acting under 
force, I cannot forgive young Jim for having 
deserted me." 

"He was acting under force, Sir Charles." 

" You have seen him then ? " 

" No, master, I have not seen him." 

" You know where he is ? " 

" Well, it is not for me to say one way or 
the other. I can only tell you that he could 
not help himself. But here's the beak a- 
comin' for us again." 

The ominous figure galloped up once 
more alongside of our curricle, but this time 
his mission was a more amiable one. 

" My jurisdiction ends at that ditch, sir," 
said he. "I should fancy that you could 
hardly wish a better place for a mill than the 
sloping field beyond. I am quite sure that 
no one will interfere with you there." 

His anxiety that the fight should be 
brought off was in such contrast to the zeal 
with which he had chased us from his 
county, that my uncle could not help remark- 
ing upon it 

" It is not for a magistrate to wink at the 
breaking of the law, sir," he answered. 
" But if my colleague of Hampshire has no 
scruples about its being brought off within 
his jurisdiction, I should very much like to 
see the fight," with which he spurred his 
horse up an adjacent knoll, from which he 
thought that he might gain the best view of 
the proceedings. 

And now I had a view of all those points 
of etiquette and curious survivals of custom 
which are so recent, that we have not yet 
appreciated that they may some day be as 
interesting to the social historian as they then 
were to the sportsman. A dignity was given 
to the contest by a rigid code of ceremony, 
just as the clash of mail-clad knights was 
prefaced and adorned by the calling of the 
heralds and the showing of blazoned shields. 
To many in those ancient days, the tourney 
may have seemed a bloody and brutal ordeal, 
but we who look at it with ample perspective 
see that it was a rude but gallant preparation 
for the condition.!! of life in an iron age. 





And so also, when the ring has become as 
extinct as the lists, we may understand that 
a broader philosophy would show that all 
things, which spring up so naturally and 
spontaneously, have a function to fulfil, and 
that it is a less evil that two men should, of 
their own free will, fight until they can fight 
no more, than that the standard of hardihood 
and endurance should run the slightest risk 
of being lowered in a nation which depends 
so largely upon the individual qualities of her 
citizens for her defence/ Do away with war, 
if the cursed thing can by any wit of man be 
^voided, but until you see your way to that, 
have 4 care in meddling with those primitive 
qualities to which at any moment you may 
have to appeal for your own protection. 
■ Tom Owen and his singular assistant, Fogo, 
who combined the functions of prize-fighter 
and of poet, though fortunately for himself 
he could use his fists better than his pen, 
soon had the ring arranged according to the 
rules then in vogue. The white, wooden 
posts, each with the P.C of the pugilistic 
club printed upon it, were so fixed as to 
leave a square of 24ft. within the roped 
inclosure. Outside this ring an outer one 
was pitched* 8ft* separating the two. 

The inner was for the cnmbatants and for 
their seconds, while in the outer there were 
places for the referee, the time-keeper, the 
backers, and a few select and fortunate indi- 
viduals of whom, through being in my uncle's 
company, I was one. Some twenty well- 
known prize-fighters, including my friend Bill 
Warr, Black Richmond, Maddox, The Pride 
of Westminster, Tom Belcher, Paddington 
Jones, Tough Tom Blake, Symonds the 
Ruffian, Tyne the Tailor, and others, were 
stationed in the outer ring as beaters. These 
fellows all wore the high white hats which 
were at that time much affected by the 
fancy, and they were armed with horse- 
whips, silver-mounted, and each bearing the 
P.C. monogram. Did anyone, be it East-end 
rough or West^end patrician, intrude within 
the outer ropes, this corps of guardians neither 
argued nor expostulated, but they fell upon 
the offender and laced him with their whips 
until he escaped hack out of the forbidden 
ground. Even with so formidable a guard 
and such fierce measures, the beaters-out who 
had to check the forward heaves of a 
maddened, straining crowd were often as 
exhausted at the end of a fight as the 
principals them selves. In the meantime 


3 T3 


they formed up in a line of sentinels, present- 
ing under their row of white hats every type 
of fighting face, from the fresh, boyish 
countenances of Tom Belcher, Jones, and the 
other younger recruits, to the scarred and 
mutilated visages of the veteran bruiser. 

Whilst the business of the fixing of the 
stakes and the fastening of the ropes was 
going forward, I from my place of vantage 
could hear the talk of the crowd behind me, 
the front two rows of which were lying upon 
the grass, the next two kneeling, and the 
others standing in serried ranks all up the 
side of the gently sloping 
hill, so that each line 
could just see over the 
shoulders of that which 
was in front There were 
several, and those amongst 
the most ex- 
perienced, who 
took the gloomiest 
view of Harrison's 
chances, and it 
made my heart 
heavy to overhear 

4 l It's the old 
story over again," 
said one* <4 They 
won J t bearin mind 
that youth will be 
served. They 
only learn wisdom 
when it's knocked 
into them." 

"Aye, aye, ,J 
another. ** That's 
how Jack Slack 
thrashed Brough- 
ton, and I myself 
saw Hooper, the 
tinman, beat to 
pieces by the fighting oilman. 
They all come to it in time, 
and now it's Harrison's turn." 

*' Don't you be so sure about 
that," cried a third. " I've seen 
Jack Harrison fight five times, 
and I never yet saw him have the worse 
of it He's a slaughterer, and so I tell you," 

" He was, you mean." 

"Well, I don't see no such difference as 
all that comes to, and I'm putting ten 
guineas on my opinion." 

11 Why," said a loud, consequential man 
from immediately behind me, speaking with 


a broad western burr, " vrom w 

rhtt I've 

of this young Gloucester lad, I doan't think 
Harrison could have stood bevore him for 
ten rounds when he vas in his prime* I vas 
coming up in the Bristol coach yesterday, 
and the guard he told me that he had vifteen 
thousand pound in hard gold in the boot 
that had been zent up to back our man." 

"They'll be in luck if they see their money 
again," said another. " Harrison's no lady's- 
maid fighter, and he's blood to the bone. 
He'd have a shy at it if his man was as big 
as Carlton House," 

answered the west-countryman. 
" It's only in Bristol 
and Gloucester that 
you can get men to 
beat Bristol and 

" It's like your 
cursed himpudence 
to say so," 
said an 
angry voice 
from the 
throng be- 
hind him. "There 
are six men in 
London that 
would hengage to 
walk round the 
best twelve that 
hever came from 
the West." 

The proceed- 
ings might have 
opened by an im- 
promptu by-battle 
between the in- 
dignant cockney 
and the gentle- 
man from Bristol, 
but a prolonged 
roar of applause 
broke in upon 
their altercation. 
It was caused by 
the appearance in 
the ring of Crab 
Wilson, followed 
by Dutch Sam 
and Mendoza carrying the basin, sponge, 
brandy-bladder, and other badges of their 
office. As he entered Wilson pulled the 
canary-yellow handkerchief from his waist, 
and going to the corner post he tied it 
to the top of it, where it remained flutter- 
ing in the breeze. He then took a 
bundle of smaller ribands of the same colour 
from his seconds, and walking round he 





-'"* * 

offered them to the noblemen and Corinthians 
at half a guinea apiece as souvenirs of the 
fight. His brisk trade was only brought to 
an end by the appearance of Harrison, who 
climbed in a very leisurely manner over the 
ropes, as befitted his more mature years and 
less elastic joints. The yell which greeted 
him was even more enthusiastic than that 
which had heralded Wilson, and there was a 
louder ring of admiration in it, for the crowd 
had already had their opportunity of seeing 
Wilson's physique, whilst Harrison's was a 
surprise to them. 

I had often looked upon the mighty arms 
and neck of the smith, but I had never before 
seen him stripped to the waist, or understood 
the marvellous symmetry of development 
which had made 
him in his youth 
the favourite 
model of the 
London sculp- 
tors. There was 
none of that 
white sleek skin 
and shimmering 
play of sinew 
which made 
Wilson a beauti- 
ful picture, but 
in its stead there 
was a rugged 
grandeur of knot- 
ted and tangled 
muscle, as though 
the roots of some 
old tree 
breast to 
der, and 
shoulder to 
elbow, Even in 
repose the sun 
threw shadows 
from the curves 
of his skin, but 
when he exerted 
himself, every 
muscle bunched 
itself up, distinct 
and hard, break- 
ing his whole 
trunk into gnarled 

His skin, on face and body, was darker and 
harsher than that of his youthful antagonist 
but he looked tougher and harder, an effect 
which was increased by the sombre colour 
of his stockings and breeches. He entered 
the ring, sucking a lemon, with Jim Belcher 
and Caleb Baldwin, the coster, at his heels. 
Strolling across to the post, he tied his blue 
bird's-eye handkerchief over the west-country- 
man's yellow, and then walked to his 
opponent with his hand out 

* l I hope I see you well, Wilson," said he, 
" Pretty tidy, I thank you," answered the 
other "We'll speak to each other in a 
different vashion, I 'spects, afore we part" 

" But no ill-feeling/' said the smith, and 
the two fighting-men grinned at each other 

as they took their 









own corners- 
"May I 
Mr. Referee, 

whether these 
two men have 
been weighed?" 
asked Sir Lothian 
Hume, standing 
up in the outer 

"Their weight 
has just been 
taken under my 
supervision, sir," 
answered Mr. 
Craven. "Your 
man brought the 
scale down at 
thirteen - three 
and Harrison at 

stoner from the 
loins upwards," 
cried Dutch Sam, 
from his corner. 
"We'll get some 
of it off him be- 
fore we finish." 

"You'll get 
more off him than 
ever you bargain- 
ed for," answered 
Jim Belcher, and 
the crowd laughed 
at the rough chaff 

Vol. si!.— 4a 

(To be continue) 0rigjna | from 


Portraits of Celebrities at Different Times of their Lives. 


Born 1802. 



he Right Hon, 
Charles Pel- 
ham Villi ers, 
whose jubilee 
as amember for 
Wolverhampton was cele- 
brated years ago, is the 
Fattier of the House of 
Commons. Mr. Glad- 
stone's Parliamentary life 
is, indeed, longer than his, 
but Mr, Villiers was born 
in 1803, and is thus seven 
years older than the Grand 

From a] 

AGE 43, 

perhaps, of the great 
Anti-Corn Law trio, but 
he was the first Par- 
liamentary advocate of 
Free Trade, The 
part which he played in 
the great controversy is 
well known, and a collec- 
tion of his Free Trade 
speeches was appropriately 
] >u bl i shed in connection 
with his jubilee, A quarter 
of a century ago, however, 
he was a prominent man 
in Liberal Administrations, 
having been Judge- Advo- 
cate -General 1852-8, and 
President of the Poor Law 
Board 1859-66, with a seat 
in* the Cabinet- He was educated at St John's 
College, Cambridge (M + A. 1827, and was 
called to the Bar, Lincoln's Inn). But it is 
of his campaigning days and of the great 
men wilh whom he worked that Mr, Villiers 
loves to speak— modestly omitting his own 
share, however, and speaking of " they n 
when he might say " we." 


Frou* , r | 

AGE £3. 

! I'airttiwjt 

Old Man. Mr. Villiers is a strong Unionist ; 
it is, however, as Father of Free Trade 
rather than as Father of the House of 
Commons that Mr. Villiers deserves to be 
best known* He was the third in authority, 




exceptional and enviable power of rising to 
the occasion, and the better the company the 

better he performs. 
He is an excellent 
batsman. In the field 
he is good anywhere, 
his quickness being 
almost electrical— and 
the amount of ground 
he covers , especially 
at short slip, is some- 
thing remarkable. In 
1892 Mr. Lohmann 
had to leave for South 


From a Photo, h# Sovihmll Bvtftor*, Baktr SVrat. 


BOKN 1865. 

jE have no hesitation in saying that 
no cricketer has attracted more 
attention in cricket circles during 
the last few years than Lohmann, 
and that Surrey is greatly indebted 
to his excellent performances with the ball 
for its very high position among the counties. 
His rapid success was phenomenal. Since 
he first represented his county, in 1884, his 

From a V'Aj&to. by istdlutrJ. <t Cti>. t Oxford. 

bowling has been the theme of admiration in 
England, and very good judges in Australia 
have said that he is one of the best bowlers 
that have ever visited them. He has the 

AVyjji a i'hvtv. ttyl AUE xq, [K Umt\ 0^«; iotin. 

Africa owing to ill-health, but two seasons 
afterwards, to the intense gratification of all, 
he returned to this country and again joined 
his popular team. 





sEgfijISS JESSIE BOND, the talented 
\J§yj jl actress and singer, is a native of 
j Liverpool, and made her first 
g public appearance, as a pianist, 
when only eight years old. While 
Miss Bond was studying at the Royal 

Academy of 
Music, Mr. 
D'Oyly Carte 
heard her sing 
at an Academy 
concert, and 
forthwith en- 
gaged her to 
appear as Hebe 
in S( Pinafore." 
In New York 
nnd the prin- 
cipal cities of 
New England 
she played the 
same part She 
also played in "The Pirates of Penzance, 11 
and speedily became a favourite on both sides 
of the water, and her name will always be 
associated with Gilbert and Sullivan's most 

From a frq0TMrr£n(y|w. 

From a] 

ACE f* 


successful operas. Miss Bond is devoted to 
her profession and has a great liking for 
character - acting, though she confesses 
that when she first appeared on the 
stage her nervousness was so great that 

Digilized by GOOgTe 

she asked that she should not be called 
upon to undertake a speaking part In 
the revival of "The Mikado," Miss Bond 

ACE 17. 

From a Photo. &|r FradeUe £ Young, 

has played with all the sprightlmcss and 
charm which characterized her first render- 
ing of the part of Pitti-Sing at the Savoy* 





i'rotit a I 




Born 1823, 
recent visit to London has caused 
more than ordinary interest, is the 
Grand Old Man of China. In 
i860 he co operated with General 
(then Colonel) Gordon in suppressing the 

created Viceroy of the united countries 
in May, 1865. The following year he 
was appointed Minister Plenipotentiary, 
and in 1867, Viceroy of Hong Kuang, 
and a Grand Chancellor in 1868. He 
was the mediator for fixing the indemnity 
for the murder of Mrs. Mangary, who 
was killed in 1876 while endeavouring to 
explore south-western China ; and was 
Prime Minister of China up to the late 
war with Japan. It may be here ex- 
plained that Li is his family name, whilst 
Hung Chang — meaning " vast ornamenta- 
tion " — is merely a personal name, or, 
rather, the official form of his personal 
name. He uses it when he addresses 
the Emperor, and the officials use it 
when speaking to the Emperor of him, 
otherwise it is improper for colleagues to 
use it in his presence ; it is also printed 
on his visiting-cards. His literary name, 

t'.-vJn uj 

HliSl.N 1 UAV. 


FTtiWl U J 

ACE 45, 


Tat ping rebellion, being then Governor of 
the Thiang Sin Province, The other Thiang 
province being added to his rule, he was 

however, is Shao-f$*iian, or " young spice/' 
and this is the one by which he is known 
to his friends, and by which he is spoken 
of in the native Press, He is also a CAung- 
Tang 7 or "central hall," which is the com- 
plimentary title of a grand secretary, Li is 
a man of liberal views, and has on the whole 
been a fair partisan of British commerce ill 
the Empire oi the liast 


Launching Big Battleships and Ocean Liners. 

By David Pollock, MJ.RA. 

HE picture which Longfellow 
has drawn of a successful ship 
launch, while it naturally 
idealizes the plain facts of the 
case — even as concerned with 
the poet's time, when romance 
and pride of handicraft were stronger in- 
fluences than they are to-day — neveitheless 
applies not inaptly to the modern event as it 
is frequently to be witnessed in one or other 
of our great centres of shipbuilding. 

And sue, she stirs, 
She starts : she moves : she seems to feel 
The thrill of life along her keel \ 
And* spurning with her foot the ground, 
Wilh one exulting, joyous bound, 
She leaps into ihe ocean's arms. 

Even in these latter days, when mechanical 
science has largely taken the place of handi- 
craft skill, excitement and emotion sut?h as 
are here suggested are still to be remarked 
among the vast crowds which invariably 
gather to view the spectacle of some great 

ship — swift " ocean greyhound M or ponderous 
battleship — being bodily transferred from 
tirra-firma to the yielding bosom of the 

There is a very generally entertained 
notion that when one gets to understand 
how certain things > wonderful and almost 
inexplicable at first sight, are performed, the 
charm of seeing them vanishes. However 
warranted this may be by actual facts in 
other departments of human endeavour, it 
does not apply in the case of the launching 
of modem ships, naval or mercantile. Even 
to those whose daily work it is to build and 
launch typical modern ships, the spectacle 
of a huge structure — weighing 8 s ooo tons 
in recent battleships — which has been 
laboriously raised piece by piece, being 
swiftly consigned to her ''native element," 
loses little of its interest by repetition. 

A At launch-day " is still a day of note in a 
modern shipyard, from which, it may be, a 
dozen or more lar^e vessels emanate in a 

From a Photo &*] 


t W. Parri?. &o«tf HhUidi. 

(From the works 


i-s. The Palmer Co., JarrowfDjirfpgfflf f-Qfyi 




kTirm a Photo, i*vl 


[Sir IVm. Anniirrm^ M itchtU, <£ Oo. 

year. And the occasion is marked by 
symptoms of commotion and mild excite- 
merit which are fo reign , for most part, to the 
ordinary routine of daily work, A definite 
and critical stage has been reached in the 
work of producing a ship ; and all sections 
of artisans seem to regard it as their natural 
right to be actual eye-witnesses of the crown- 
ing act in the productive wort in which they 
have all had a share. 

Cessation of labour, therefore, becomes 
the order of the hour; and not until the 
vessel is freely afloat, and the newly -born 
battleship or ocean liner is under the charge 
of the busy and staunch little steam tugs, is 
the strain of excitement relaxed and a return 
made to the ordinary avocations of the ship- 

Battleships, and ships of war generally, 
excite, on the w + hole, more interest and 
enthusiasm than large merchant ships or even 
great ocean liners. This is probably because 
warships are the nation's property, are intended 
to fight our battles, maintain our supremacy, 
and protect our commerce on the seas, and 
to guard our shores from hostile invasion. 
For these reasons each and all conceive a 
more direct and personal interest in ships of 
the Navy ; their building, launching, and 
future sen 1 ice. 

While it is well that this feeling of personal 
interest, or of individual proprietorship, should 

exist, perhaps that degree of it— Of rather the 
aggressive form which it assumed — in the 
case of one British taxpayer, is scarcely to be 
admired. At all events, it was the cause of 
a pretty severe snub being administered, 
when, under proper conditions, it would have 
deserved and obtained nothing but com- 

The individual in question, on the occasion 
of the Channel Squadron visiting the Clyde, 
rowed out to one of the newest of our great 
battleships and insisted on seeing through 
the ship, although he was informed, both by 
notice-board and by the officer on guard, 
that this was against orders for the day. 
" But I insist," declared the man, pompously ; 
" I'm a part-owner of the ship,** to which 
came the immediate and crushing rejoinder, 
accompanied by a small particle whittled by 
the officer from the bulwark rail of the great 
vessel, " Here, sir ! that's your part of the 
ship ; so kindly sheer off ! " 

Though simple in principle, launching a 
ship has always been a perilous operation, 
and the task has grown in arduousness and 
responsibility as vessels have grown in size 
and weight of structure. None appreciate 
the latent power for harm which exists in 
launching ponderous modern vessels, or 
admire the skill with which it is controlled, 
so keenly as those professionally initiated. 
Referring .;3fl C |th§| I ftitch which occurred in 




connection with the launch of H.M.S* 
RamillUs in August, 1892, from the famous 
yard of Messrs. Thomson, Clydebank, 
Sir \V. tL White, chief naval constructor, 
said that with all respect to his colleagues, 
the civil engineers responsible for the 
great Forth Bridge, the naval architects 
and shipbuilders who undertook to produce 
floating structures like the RamillUs faced 
a task of even greater difficulty and of 
a more arduous character. When people 
saw ships gliding into the water, they were 
prone to take it as a matter of course, but 
when such incidents were witnessed as had 
taken place in connection with the progress 

berth or slipway on which they have been 
built, as distinguished from the "floating- 
out" of vessels built in a dry-dock. In the 
latter case the responsibility of the work 
involved is not nearly so great The vessel 
simply rests on the blocks on which she has 
been constructed until the inflow of the sea 
into the dock is such as to float hen Most 
of the heavy battleships produced in the 
Royal Dockyards are built and floated out in 
this manner, the recently added battleships* 
Magnificent and Majestic^ being examples. 
To this aspect of the subject we will return. 

The longest and heaviest ships — with the 
single and memorable exception of the Great 

of the Ramillks down the ways (a hitch 
which was due mainly to the hardening of 
the grease on the ways), where, when all that 
human skill and foresight could do had been 
done, there was still possible risk in lowering 
a stupendous mass weighing 7,000 tons a 
depth of 20ft. to 30ft., the difficult nature of 
the performance was better realized* Ships 
were built which, to get into the water, was, 
to say the least, no easy task, and when once 
they were safely there they had, instead of 
the solid earth as a foundation, the moving 
and tumultuous ocean. 

By the term "launching," of course, is 
meant the transfer of ships bodily from the 


(From the wgrka of Messrs. The Palmer Co., 
J arrow-on -Tyne. ) 

From a Photo- bjr W. I'arry. fowth Shitldt, 

Eastern^ ever transferred from the stocks of 
any yard — Royal or private— were the two 
great Cunard liners, Campania and Lucania^ 
launched from the famous establishment of 
Fairfield, on the Clyde, in September, 1892^ 
and February, 1893, respectively. Unlike 
the case of the Great Eastern^ the launching 
of each of these later " leviathans n was an 
immediate and unqualified success. Their 
transfer from the stocks was witnessed by 
enormous concourses of enthusiastic spec- 
tators, and never, perhaps, in the whole 
history of shipbuilding were hearty congratu- 
lations on the success of a launch more freely 
bestowed upon the responsible performers in 
such an undertaking than were showered upon 
the head officials at Fairfield. 

The Campania s and Lucania 7 s weight, as 
each sat on the ways ready to "take the 



plunge," was approaching 9,000 tons. The 
launching weights of many of the battleships 
since turned out from Governmental and 
private yards have ranged from 6,000 to 
7,950 tons. The latter figure represents the 
weight of H.M.S. Hannibal^ launched from 
Pembroke Dockyard in April this year. The 
Resolution^ of which a view is given on 
page 320, as she left the ways of the Palmer 
Company's yard at Jarrow-on-Tyne, in 
May, 1892, weighed 7,270 tons. The 
RamillieSy already referred to, and the 
Terrible and Jupiter^ also launched from 
the stocks at Clydebank last year, as well 
as the Powerful^ produced at Barrow t all 
weighed something like 7,000 tons each. 
From these general facts alone it will be 
easily understood, as claimed by Sir W. H, 
White, that the launching of large modern 
ships is a task of no ordinary magnitude, 
involving labour and skill of a kind which 
dwarfs into comparative insignificance the 
building of large structures on terra-firma* 

The forethought and concern, if not the 
actual work, connected with the launching of 
a ship, begin almost with her inception : in 
other words, with the commission to build 
her. The prudent shipbuilder, indeed, 
unlike Defoe's Robinson Crusoe, who 
couldn't launch his boat after he had built it, 

predetermines how a given vessel shall be 
launched, or floated, before he places the 
blocks upon which her keel is to be laid 
and her structure raised. Want of precaution 
and forethought may often tend towards, and 
actually sometimes result in, hitch and 

The careful and successful shipbuilder 
first of all has to consider whether the berth 
or slip upon which the particular ship is to 
be erected is sufficiently solid and strong. 
Any subsequent sagging or drooping in the 
foundation of the building slip, and consequent 
change in the ship's structure, may occasion 
trouble at the critical moment of launching. 
Thus, in private establishments the ground on 
which heavy ships are to be constructed 
frequently requires considerable preparation, 
on account, possibly, of its loose or yielding 
nature, and piling or some other kindred 
provision is made to prevent the sinking of 
the structure which has to be raised over it. 
In laying the keel or foundation blocks, it is 
needful to take account of the degree of 
declivity required for launching, on account 
of the rise and fall of the tide, and the 
necessity or otherwise of providing means of 
checking the ship, as may be determined by 
the width of water clearly available; 

On broad waters such as Milford Haven, 

From a Photo, by] 
VoL xtL— 41, 

A BROAUSlUk LAUNCH AT PAISLSVj f^A". ^.rwwtFGWff. HhtltUttOfl, 




From a PKoij b e ] 


[Jfeur*. finnan, Gttupow. 

(From the works of the Fairfield Co,, Govan, Glasgow,) 

and in lesser degree such as the lower 
reaches of the Clyde, a vessel can be allowed 
to glide down the ways with gradually 
accelerated motion, and without let or 
hindrance, as the velocity involved does 
not exceed the distance from the shore at 
which fluid resistance counteracts it and 
brings the vessel to rest. On the other hand, 
in waters so restricted in width as the Clyde in 
its tipper reaches, the Cart at Paisley — see 
page 321 — the upper parts of the Tyne, or the 
Wear at Sunderland, the conditions are 
entirely different. The available width for 
launching is limited^ and ships, as a rule, must 
be pulled up as soon as they are water-borne 
or completely afloat. At certain points, more- 
over, in these and other districts, the width 
of water is so very much restricted that 
vessels, even of moderate dimensions, must 
be launched broadside on to the water, even 
as the Great Eastern — though certainly not 
of moderate dimensions — was committed, 
ultimately, to the bosom of Father Thames. 
The means employed to successfully accom- 
plish the bunch and floating of vessels in 
these circumstances impart into the problem 
of launching additional elements of difficulty 
and danger, which will be afterwards referred 

Digitized by ^OOQ IC 

When once the vessel is completed, in so 
far as the water-tightness of her shell and the 
coating of it with paint are concerned, the 
work of preparing the launching gear is begun. 
This primarily consists m i( laying the ways," 
or rails, so to speak } on which the ship is 
destined to glide into the water, There are 
usually two lines of ways, laid parallel to the 
keel of the vessel, and at equal distances on 
each side of it ; the total distance, usually 
from a third to a half of the vessel's breadth, 
varying according to circumstances— such as 
the width, the form, and the weight of the 
hull, the nature of the foundation, etc. Each 
line of ways comprises two main items : the 
permanent or "standing way," and, on top of 
this, the "sliding way/ 1 both consisting of 
heavy, solid lengths of timber, usually oak or 
elm. The standing ways are securely stapled 
to heavy cross-blocks of timber, somewhat 
equivalent to the sleepers of ordinary railways, 
and these, in their turn, are fastened to massive 
timber balks, running lengthwise, their top 
surface flush with the ground level. The 
sliding ways are usually of about the same 
width and thickness as the standing ways, 
but along their inner lower edge is a feather, 
which projects down past the edge of the 
standing way^jflq^qjjtjffl the same way as 



railway carriage wheels, and with much the 
same object : to prevent the sliding ways 
and their superincumbent burden from 
"leaving the rails "or permanent ways. 

Rising from the sliding ways is the assem- 
blage of heavy vertical timbers of pine — 
termed " poppets " in naval yards— forming 
the " cradle " in which the vessel's hull is 
directly supported, and in which, with the 
sliding ways, the ship is borne down the 
appointed pathway, The timbers forming 
the cradle are closely spaced, and have their 
top ends bevelled to fit closely in upon the 
shape of the vessel's hull. It is chiefly, of 

the ways employed are points regulated by 
considerations of weight of hull to be 
launched, character of foundation, declivity 
of ways, etc. ; the main object being to 
distribute the total weight over an amount 
of surface at once suited to the needs of 
stable support and presenting the minimum 
of surface friction, compatible with a safe 
speed of travel In general practice, it is 
found that for each square foot of surface 
of ways the superimposed weight should not 
be more than from two to two and a half tons. 
Taking the renowned Campania and Lueawa 
as examples : the two lines of ways employed 

rut liiv of nhw vokk — sticnviKt; twin screws and launching chapli^ 

course, at the fore-end and at the aft-end of 
the vessel where the cradle is required, 
although throughout her whole length she 
rests on wedges and packing laid upon the 
sliding ways. The cradle on each side is 
secured and kept from falling away from 
supporting the ship by means of strong cable 
or other ties passing from side to side under- 
neath the keel 

In some districts s and in the case of heavy 
vessels, a third line of ways is laid down, 
direct iy under the vessel's keel, but this is 
becoming less and less the practice. The 
number, and more especially the width, of 

in their case were each 4ft. in width, and 
this with the length of sliding ways adopted 
yielded a weight distribution of somewhere 
between the two and two and a half tons 
per square foot just spoken of, 

Trior to finally fitting the cradle, a com- 
paratively simple, but very essential, part of 
ths work is gone through- This is the 
greasing of the ways with tallow or other 
suitable substance to impart the necessary 
lubrication to the rubbing surfaces. In the 
cas^ of the Campania this was done about a 
fortnight before the launch, the layer of 
unguent being about ^in. thick, The 




lubricating of the ways, and maintaining the 
greased surface in proper condition until the 
fateful moment of the hunch, form, perhaps, 
the most fruitful source of trouhle that the 
shipbuilder has to contend with. H itches not 
infrequently occur in this connection which 
necessitate the raising or "shoring-up" 
of the vessel from the cradle, removing 
cradle and sliding ways, coating the ways 
anew, and then re-fitting the whole before the 
vessel can be got off. Such hitches are due 
often to the solidifying of the unguent, through 
frost, or to its exuding from between the 

and consists in driving wedges all along the 
vessel's length into the* joint between the 
upper surface of the sliding ways and the 
packing pieces on which the vessel directly 
rests. In this way the original supporting 
blocks are relieved sufficiently of pre-sure to 
enable them to be drawn out or battered 
down from under the keel and bilges. This 
work proceeds smartly and simultaneously all 
along the line, until when there is nothing of 
the original support left, save perhaps a few 
of the blocks under the bow or u fore-foot," 
the vessel is at last cradle-borne. 

From a Pkoht. bff tha HhU'Lcta] 


[Mti9rt, J. it G. ThfuwM, Vlvdcfxink. 

ways from excessive pressure and frictional 
heat, while not infrequently it is due to the 
bad quality of the substance employed. 

With the greasing of the launching 
ways, and the final fitting and securing 
of the cradle complete, the only other 
arduous preparatory work remaining is 
"setting-up" the vessel, or transferring its 
weight from the original supporting stationary 
blocks and props on to the movable 
cradle and ways. This part of the work of 
the modern shipwright is accomplished 
quickly, immediately preceding the launch, 

D igiiiz ed by ^_VOO Q IC 

Thus situated, and when the signal "All 
clenr" has been given, the vessel is ready for 
the "send off," Here, however, the masterful 
skill of the shipwright interposes a small but 
effectual barrier to too precipitate motion. 
This obstacle, known variously as the 
4t trigger," "dagger," or * 4 dog-shore, 3 ' is 
usually a short length of hard -wood inter- 
posed in a sloping direction, and in 
such a way as to promptly yield to a 
smart downward blow— I jet ween fixed pro- 
jections on the side of the standing ways and 
of the sliding; wa^f^-ftfC nocking down the 



daggers/' or dog-shores^ as the crowning act 
in the process of launching a vessel— or 
14 slipping the leash," so to speak, of the 
" Atlantic greyhound ,J — has* from time imme- 
morial, been regarded as an honour to which 
the youngest shipwright apprentice could lay 
claim. This only now obtains, however, in 
yards, or in connection with small ships, 
where the act is performed by hammer-blows 
by hand. It is merely a tradition in yards 
where the larger steamships are built, 
mechanical and automatic devices being in 
their case now invariably resorted to, Two t 
and sometimes three, daggers are employed, 
suspended above which are heavy weights. 
Being simultaneously released by mechanical 
means, these weights instantly fall, and, in 
doing so, bring down the daggers, thus 
removing all obstacle to the passage of the 
ship down the ways. Morion, in most cases, 
at once sets in through natural gravity, while 
in others a gentle persuasive push from 
hydraulic jacks placed against the ends of 
the sliding ways or the round of the stem 
is necessary. Once fairly on the move, the 
sliding ways, cradle, and ship gather impetus 
and glide down the appointed pathway with 
accelerated velocity until retarded on enter- 
ing the water, and finally brought to rest by 
check-chains or wj re-ropes connecting ship 
and shore. Immediately the duty of sup- 
porting the hull of the vessel is assumed by 
the water, the cradle and ways float away 
from the vessel's 
sides in pieces, but 
are loosely con- 
nected by cordage 
to facilitate re- 

It is, of course, 
well known to 
everyone that all 
British ships, and 
almost all the ships 
built in foreign 
cou n t r i es, recei ve, 
previous to being 
consigned to their 
native element, 
spirituous baptism. 
In other words, a 
bottle of wine is 
broken on their 
bows and their 
name pronounced 
by some fair lady 
or other. In the 
case of British war- 
ships, and even of 

many foreign merchant ships, a religious 
service also forms part of the ceremony 
engaged in. Modern scientific methods, 
though now so much enlisted, do not supplant 
but supplement and enhance the romance 
and sentiment attaching to such proceedings* 
Not only the ceremonial naming or "christen- 
ing 7i of vessels, but the actual touch which 
sends them gliding down the ways, is now 
managed by the fair sex. In the hands of a 
lady, a mallet and chisel sever the cord 
supporting or communicating with the weights 
above the daggers, causing them to fall ; or 
wizard electricity does what little work is 
thus involved, if only a button be pressed. 
This latter was the mode of managing 
matters in the case of the Royal Sovereign^ 
named and launched by Her Gracious Majesty 
the Queen ; and of other battleships since. 

So perfect, and so magical indeed, is the 
system sometimes made, that the finger-touch 
of a baby may launch a battleship. In the 
case, at least, of the torpedo-boat destroyer 
Ardent^ launched from the renowned yard of 
Messrs, J. 1^, Thorn ycr oft and Co., Chiswick, 
the release of the vessel was accomplished by 
Miss Esther Cornish, granddaughter of the 
builder, and of the grandly mature age of 
six months ! 

In this same connection of launching 
customs, here and abroad, it is of interest to 
refer to one of the (L pretty ways" long 
followed, and possibly not yet forgotten, by 






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the Japanese, whose recent groat triumph 
over the sleepy Celestials has seemingly 
inspired them with a still greater desire for 
copying our Western ways of doing things. 
Taking the place of the gaily decorated 
bottle of wine, hanging from the bow 
of our vessels, the Japanese have a large 
pasteboard cage full of strong-winged and 
mellow-throated birds. The moment the 
ship is afloat a string is pulled by some hand 
on board ship, the cage collapses, and out 
fly the covey of birds, making the air alive 
with music and the whirr of wings. The 
circumstance is supposed to be symbolic of 
the chorus of welcome with which the good 
ship will be tailed as a thing of life and 
movement, and of beneficent service on the 
u mighty ocean." 

The means employed to accomplish the 
checking of vessel s ? as has already been stated, 
imparts into the problem of launching 
additional elements of difficulty and danger. 
Here again, however, the skill and experience 
of shipbuilders are invariably found equal to 
the task of safely carrying matters through to 
a successful issue. The method of checking 
launches on waters of restricted width, like 
the Clyde and Tyne and Wear in their upper 
reaches, follow one generally approved 

individual instances 
are common. For 


practice, although in 
deviations in detail 


example, in place 
of chain-cable some 
firms prefer to use 
wire-rope as the 
agent in "reining- 
in " the floating 
steed, and in the 
case of the launch 
of the battleship 
Jupiter from Clyde- 
bank in November 
last, two wire -rope 
checks were em- 
ployed aside, in 
addition to the two 
chain - cables 
usually employed. 
The wire -rope, 
equally strong, is 
lighter and more 
easily handled than 
the cumbersome 
chain-cable, and it 
is also felt to be 
safer, in that it 
gives better in- 
dication of any 
undue wear taking 
place, or of any latent defect. 

As representative of the practice obtaining 
on the Clyde and Tyne, the arrangements of 
check-chains and drags employed in the cases 
of H.MS, Ttrribk\x& H.M.S, Resolution 
may be briefly outlined. The view given of 
the latter vessel on page 320 helps to make 
our remarks clearer. To projecting eye-pieces 
on the upper works of the Tcrrtblt on each 
side four check-chains were attached — one at 
a point well aft of the mid- length of the vessel, 
another amidships, and the remaining tw + o 
close to each other near the bow. The 
shore ends of these chains were piled in heavy 
masses or folds on the ground alongside the 
vessel, and so arranged that the several piles 
would be brought into play gradually as the 
huge vessel moved off the ways into the water, 
the whole aggregation of drags amounting 
roughly to some 500 tons. Almost as soon 
as the stern of the vessel floated the checking 
action began, on each side simultaneously, of 
course , and by the time 600ft, had been 
travt -rsrri, a little more than her own length, 
the system of check-chains and drags had 
effectually stopped " way "on the vessel and 
she was safely brought to rest In the case 
of the Resolution, launched from the cele- 
brated Palmer yard -at Jarrow-on-Tyne, the 
total launching weight was 7,270 tons, or 270 
tons greater than the: corresponding weight of 



H,M.S. Terribk x but her length was only 
380ft as against the Terribifs 500ft. The 
" free run " in her case amounted simply to the 
width of the river in the line projecting from her 
launching berth, viz., about 880ft. The Reso- 
lution was brought up after having travelled 
260ft. clear of the end of the ways ; the velocity 
attained while on the ways being 22ft per 
second. The means of checking employed 
in this case consisted of four 2)iin. chain- 
cables, and one 6in, steel-wire hawser on each 
side of the vessel, attached to the hull and 
disposed in drag-groups in a somewhat similar 
manner to those connected with the Terrible- 
As a rule, in connection with all hut the 
heaviest of ships, the cheek-chains and 
pendant-drags, which are arranged farthest 
aft, are first brought into action, but in long 
and heavy vessels, such as the Terrible and 
the more recently-launched battleship Jupiter^ 
built upon and ushered from the same hcrth, 
the two check-chains and pendant-drags 
nearest the bow were first brought into play : 
the two farther aft being arranged so as to 
serve mainly as supplementary or ft emer- 
gency " agents in the work of bringing the 

stupendous mass to a state of rest in the new 
and untried medium of support. 

In the United States the building and 
launching of the modern battleship or 
American liner is a matter of tremendous 
public interest, possibly because the construc- 
tion in that country of immense vessels, 
such as are yearly built upon the Clyde, is a 
growth of recent years. Indeed, it was not 
until the decline of the H clipper " ship, 
owing to the progress made in steam naviga- 
tion, and the rapid construction of modern 
ships of war by European Governments, that 
the United States woke to a realization of 
its dependence upon English -built steam- 
ships for its mercantile relations with Europe, 
and its defencelessness in case of a naval 

A speedy change, however, has taken place. 
The " White Squadron/' of which the Ameri- 
can people are pardonably proud, and the 
beautiful twin steamships of the American 
line— the St. Louis and St. /fow/— are the 
product of the Cramp Yard, in Philadelphia, 
and the periodical launchings of the new 
American Navy have attracted the attention 

Prvm a Fhotor by] 


■F THE li ±T. LOUIS 


IN ri|[LAUEI.FKXA,'-MDh«MB»i H^VBy*. 


[William Rau. 



of the United States, from Maine to the 
Golden Gate, Preparations for the gTeat 
day are widely heralded in the Press, and 
when the different vessels glide swiftly down 
the ways, the news is quickly telegraphed to 
every part of the land. 

The launching of the 5/. Louts on Novem- 
ber nth, 1894, illustrated this enormous 
interest. Nearly forty thousand people were 
gathered in the Philadelphia Yard to watch 
Mrs. Cleveland break a bottle of champagne 
across the graceful bow of the largest steam- 
ship ever launched in the United States. 
The President and his Cabinet had come 
from Washington to witness the ceremony* 
The public platform held ten thousand people, 
and the unfinished decks of the St Paui y 
which stood near by, were black with the 
eager crowd. For an hour or more hundreds 
of workmen were employed driving in the 
wedges which lift the vessel. from her bilge- 

Meantime the band was playing popular 
airs to distract the attention of the impatient 
crowd, and when at last the great ship was 
launched, the babel of whistles, horns, and 
cheers was almost deafening. It was a great 
event, and the celebration of it was charac- 
teristic of an enthusiastic people. 

In view of the popular acclaim and warm 
official recognition of the success attending 
the output of naval vessels from the Royal 
dockyards, it Is worth while adding that the 
many-sidedness of the problem with which 
private builders, as a rule, have to deal in 
building and launching heavy vessels from 
ordinary merchant slip -ways is in striking 
contrast to the simplicity characterizing the 
state of things obtaining in Royal dockyards, 
or where properly constructed building docks, 
in place of inclined slip-ways, are available. 
These docks are of substantial masonry, and 
for this reason the responsibility of providing 
a stable foundation is obviated ; the work of